My Life Is One Big Slumper Party

MY life is one big slumber party.  I just realized that laying in bed this morning debating getting up.  I really have a great, FUN life!

For years, while married, I was just a tiny bit envious at times of my baby sister.  I had a great life, good marriage, fantastic husband, great kids, nice house with a pool and hot tub, nice cars etc.  We weren’t rich but we certainly were comfortably blessed.  I had a great job, good medical insurance, and my husband could fix just about anything that broke or needed tweaking.  There was a very sweet contentment in my life. Don’t get me wrong, it was not perfect by any stretch but I honestly had little I could complain about.  At the top of the hill, when all was ‘good’ or so I thought, my sister had one thing I did not have….mom.  She and her two girls were living with my mom.

I think I can safely speak for all of my siblings when I say we are close to my mom.  For myself, I talked to her just about every day if not on the phone, via text.  I was raised by a mom that had a father who taught the value of family.  My gramps was the best in my opinion.  He taught all of us growing up that no matter what we lost in life, if we had our family we had everything.  I would learn that lesson many times over starting in my teens.  Family doesn’t have to agree with you, in fact they’ll often be the first to tell you what an idiot you are, but they still stand behind you and love you through support.  Or they should.  If they don’t, I honestly think you might want to trade them in for a new one.  Too bad you cannot do that!

Long ago it used to be quite the norm as the kids came along, grandma and grandpa were close by, if not living with one of their children, taking care of the little ones.  Families farmed, or held jobs ‘in town’.  There were no daycare centers and moms worked at home.  And it was work!  Everything was done by hand in the old days.  Grandma and grandpa helped out and families were much closer geographically as a means of survival.  Kids KNEW they grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  Sure, many will make remarks now about “Oh, he is 53 and lives with his mother…” and I think, yeah? So???  Maybe it is necessary for both to have a comfortable life, or maybe he is a mama’s boy and a loser.  Whatever the story he is fortunate enough to still share life with his mom.  And that is how I viewed my sister.  She had a fantastic job, made great money, and she got to share life with my mom.  I know, it was not all coming up roses, the girls were teens and 4 females under one roof spells DRAMA anyway you slice it.

2 years ago I was spending every available moment over at my mom’s house with her, my sister and my nieces.  I was about a month into accepting that my husband wanted out off the marriage and the plan was for me to move out.  In hind sight there are a few things I would change about my divorce agreement…like since he was getting ALL the toys, the house, pool, hot tub etc, that he took ALL of the debt.  I had no way to see down the road that I’d end up laid off from another job and the other company would go under, and that finding work in this economy is damn near impossible.  My credit is shot to hell because I just cannot quite make ends meet at the moment, having lost 3 of the little ones I was babysitting because I don’t (and won’t) take vouchers.  It sucks.  But I’m hijacking my blog, back on topic.  The Divas had determined I was moving in with them, and the hunt had transpired for a house suited to all 5 of us.  Who knew the  second house we looked at was our dream house. It was one of those that, had I gotten bored and went a looked at houses while happily married, I would have wanted a reason to own it, it is such a cool house.  So, 2 years ago today we were all sitting around mom’s table on a Sunday afternoon just dreaming that all the pieces were going to fall into place and we’d get the house.  And we did!

Fast forward and welcome to our ongoing slumber party.

No one that heard what our plan was thought this had a chance of working out, but inside me somewhere I knew it would.  Maybe it was the one night 2 years ago when I left my mom’s to go home (I had to text them when I was in safely), and when I was crawling into my bed, the big one I had shared with hubby that I now slept in alone, I was sad and lonely until I received a text from my youngest niece.  It said, “Don’t lose your green card, we want you back!”.  It made me laugh and cry all at the same time.  I felt wanted at a time when I was feeling humiliated, rejected and worthless.

The past 2 years in this house (our 2 year anniversary of the official establishment of the Diva Den/Estrogen Central is 5/1/12)  has been FUN!  Really, most days we laugh a LOT.  Laughter is healing, trust me on this.  I noticed there is an over all JOY in this house.  My daughter loves coming over to visit because she laughs til her mascara is running down her cheeks.  Drama happens, but very, very rarely.  I’ve lost my temper, sure, 3 times.  Once with my sister, twice with my niece.  That tells me something when I know the number of times.  It may sound like a lot until you break it down, that in 630 days, give or take a few, I’ve lost my cool 3 times.   The two nieces are good for driving each other bonkers and some drama, but not often and usually not much at all.  Mostly, this house, this HOME, is filled with JOY.  We all love the house itself, it just is awesome.  And we all enjoy each other.

We stay up late some nights, like little girls at a sleep over, watching TV, talking and laughing.  We enjoy mornings on the weekends of extended coffee drinking with bed-head and jammies.  We support each other, hug each other, eat meals together, break into song and dance together, tease each other, and laugh together, a LOT.  We help each other, cry together over chick flick moments on TV, encourage or discourage each other as needed, and help each other out when money is tight.  A need was there that turned out to be the greatest of blessings.  When I was shattered emotionally and mentally at the end of the marriage, I was wrapped in the protective love of the women in my family.  I was able to heal with on site support.  We’re the true “girls next door” and we’re one big ole laughing, good time!

And the best part is that I get to live with my mom.  I’m not embarrassed to say it at all, I am about to turn 49 in 88 or so days, and I live with my mom.  And my sister and one of my nieces (one has since moved out on her own to be closer to school and work).  I get to tap into her wisdom, live, laugh and love with her, and enjoy moments that I’d have never had if my life and not taken the turn it did 2 years ago.  I’m not content, I AM HAPPY!

Here is a little treat, what happened in the middle of playing Farkle on Christmas night at the Diva Den. Featuring my sister, nieces, and my daughter.  It is pretty typical of the fun we have on a daily basis (mostly without the beer).  A song comes on and suddenly everyone has a spontaneous sing along. Though we don’t often need the song on the radio, we just kinda break into song because our life is like a very bizarre musical some days:


  1. I remember reading when your niece sent the text about the green card. I thought that was a wonderful gesture at the time and knew how special it made you feel because it came at a time you really needed it.

    There’s a lot to say about a House of Estrogen. I am quite sure that it can be one hot flash after another. However, I also believe that no one understands a woman….like another woman. I think that is why they make the best friends, and the worst enemies.

    I’ve never had the pleasure of living in a house with family the way that you are doing now, but it was totally the way things were a long time ago. Generations took care of each other. I lived in my Mom’s basement for a while when my ex husband and I were divorcing. There was real comfort in knowing that my baby son and I were safe with Mom and Dad right upstairs. I’d give ten years of my life to feel that safe again. Cherish your parents. When they are gone, I can only compare the feeling to the one that you get while walking through the house searching for something, but you just can’t remember what it is. It’s a lost feeling. I don’t like it one little bit.

    Keep having those slumber parties. That’s the stuff that rocking chair memories are made of.


Comments are closed.