A Mile a Minute: The World of Mrs. Saditty

Jamaica? No Problem!

Hey ya'll! It's been a few days but your girl has been distracted. I have the most WONDERFUL news in the world to share with ya'll but I'll wait another day or so.Needless to say, I am back in effect! I wanted to share a few pics of our trip with you guys...

A shot from the airport shuttle en route from Montego Bay to Ocho Rios.

 The view of Ocho Rios from our little porch.

 

 

  Jerk baby, jerk baby, jerk jerk jerk!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A picture of a natural waterfall at The Ruins. I kept hearing running water while in our room or on the porch and could not figure it out where it was coming from(it helped me to sleep like a BABY!). We became hungry and wandered off and discovered this right next door!

An alternate view of the Falls at the Ruins.

 

The famous and fabulous Dunn's River Falls. It took Mr. S and I nearly an hour to climb from beach level to the top of the falls. Not bad? Wrong! A group of eightysomething year old Austrian and German tourists beat us up there by about twenty minutes. I couldn't take my camera on the actual climb BUT I wish you guys could see them standing at the summit in their Speedos and micro-kinis...a-m-a-z-i-n-g!

 

Mr. S is going to HELL. Why, you ask? Well meet Carlton. Carlton works at Evitas, a restaurant in the Blue Mountains with an AMAZING view. It was booked solid every single night....until Mr. S got the bright idea ofcalling and saying that I was a food critic attempting to write a review. Instantly, we had a table on a balcony overlooking Jamaica. Carlton wasted no time telling us how he was an aspiring actor and planned to come to America and put Idris Elba out of work. He insisted on posing and slipped Mr. S a headshot, asking him to give it to his "producer friend"....WTF?????? The closest my husband has ever been to a producer was in a concession line at a Star Trek convention. Carlton honey, don't hold your breath. Since everyone thought I was a food critic, the service was OFF THE HOOK. The food? Imagine licking motor oil off your car's axle. Got it? Good. I guess that was our punishment!

 

A view of the Carribean from Reggae Beach.

Peep this cute little wagon. Vendors push them up and down the street, selling fresh steam roasted peanuts. Mr. S insisted on buying me a bag. I was hesitant but when I bit into the warm creamy goodness called a steam roasted peanut, I was in sheer heaven. Imagine how fast I came crashing down when I stood on the sidewalk chewing as the vendor fetched more water to make steam----OUT OF THE FRIGGING DITCH!!!!!

Mr. S and his 746,288th Rum Punch.

In all, we had a wonderful time with lots of laughs. and great memories were made. It was super affordable.  After talking to a few islanders, we learned how bad the recession/near Depression is hurting the tourism industry. As always, visits to the Carribean and other parts of the world are beautiful yet eye opening. In the United States, we are TRULY blessed. The people of Jamaica are becautiful, humble, and so happy. Makes you think....in the US, we have everything but are not happy with anything. The people of Jamaica and other nations have nothing but still manage to be happy. How can they be happy with nothing but we are miserable with everything? Counting blessings is definitely something that I need to work on!

Love ya'll! Mrs. S

I Miss

After a great Friday night with old friends, I woke up feeling slightly wobegone. There was no real reason but while I am in this particular mood, I shall say this...

• I miss hearing my friend Felicia's country azz laugh on a regular basis
• I miss seeing Ed Bradley on 60 Minutes every Sunday night
• I miss school systems hiring teachers who cared about the personal development and well-being of students instead of just a paycheck
• I miss the days when my biggest worries were spelling tests and timed marathons in P.E. class
• I miss the days when friends would pick up the phone after a few days of being upset and say "Let's talk about it" instead of holding a grudge
• I miss the days my extended family loved each other more than life itself...you know, the days BEFORE Uncle So-and-so fell out with Aunt So-and-So over something stupid and everyone decided to take sides
• I miss the days that my babies were actually babies and I could hold them in my arms for hours and sniff that "baby smell"...the days before they became addicted to Oswald and Wonderpets
• I miss the days when women would compliment eachother and say things like "Girl, you look good!" instead of hating, backstabbing, and dirtymacking
• I miss my Uncle John (rest in peace "Sarge")
• I miss the grilled cheese sandwiches with sliced red onions inside that my Daddy used to make me when I was a little girl
• I miss the smell of the white handkerchiefs that my Daddy used to pull out of his fatigues to wipe my nasty little nose
• I miss the days when my baby brother thought that I knew magic and was the wisest person in the world...well, maybe he still feels that way...lol
• I miss the days when I was able to boss my baby brother around...now he is 6'5 and a tad bit stronger than me
• I miss the days that my sister would throw me in her back seat and drive around with me for hours while she sang along with the Beegees or Debarge
• I miss the days when my husband was carefree and didn't worry himself sick over the senseless actions of his siblings
• I miss the days when depression was a period of financial strain after a major war instead of an every day word
• I miss the days when every good woman seemed to find a good man who really deserved her
• I miss the days when little girls dressed like little girls and weren't in a terrible hurry to grow up and have babies

Now, I am going to hand the mic over to ya'll...if any of you are missing anything or anyone, let me hear ya...

The Sin Eater

I have so many things that I want to blog about and so many pictures to share with ya'll but they will have to wait. Make yourself comfy because this one will be long but worth it--please stay with me until the end. Tonight, I want to blog about you.

You are a beautiful person, inside and out. You may or may not be a size 6 but you are definitely a head turner! You have no major health issues, don't drag the streets, and respect yourself as well as your family and peers. As we used to say abck in the day, You've got it going on!

Which brings me to my question: WHY do you let others cause you to second guess yourself?
...there, I said it and it's like a load has been lifted off my chest. Take a few steps away and look at yourself. Now turn to the side...now back to the front. See there? You are gorgeous! You have no issues with the extra pounds that you are carrying (in fact, you KNOW you look great) or maybe you could stand to gain a few pounds but the minute your 'friends' start telling you that your size is not healthy, you go on these crazy crash diets and make yourself sick. I wonder if you notice that some of these friends drink, smoke, or are overweight themselves? Next? Remember the friend who emailed you the link to the national website of "Marry Your Baby Daddy" or "Why are you still single?", You called your S/O and started nagging him with all that la-dee-da about not wanting to live in sin any longer. You nagged until he got mad. Then you got mad and you guys didn't speak for days. The friend who emailed you the link? I bet she and her man (who she IS NOT married to) were on great terms while you were down in the dumps. I could go on and on and on with examples but I am your friend. Instead of talking about the problem, let's talk about the solution. THEY are the problem and YOU are the solution. In college, I took an English literature class that I hated but one of the readings stuck with me. It was called "The Sin Eaters". For those of you who don't know what a sin eater is, it is basically a person who comes out of the woods and eats bread and drinks wine off the body of a dead person, which is supposed to absolve the dead person of sin and allow them to enter the afterlife clean and sin free. The sin eater is oblivious to all the pain and suffering of the deceased and the bereaved family. He basically comes, eats and drinks, gets paid, and leaves. The family sees the sin eater as a scapegoat, someone to take away sin, pain, and suffering.

See where I am going with this? In everyday life, we often are placed into the role of a sin eater of sorts. We are happy in our situations but encounter people looking to absolve themselves of sin, self-esteem issues, shortcoming, unrequited love, etc etc etc. What do they do? They "pay" us by befriending us and then they "feed" us their issues by basically dumping on us. They put your life under a trick microscope and cause you to see things wrong with your life, your looks, and your situations that really do not exist. They pin-point these imaginary things until they start to snowball and cause chaos in your mind and your life. Once paranoia, panic, and doubt set in, the grieving person who "hires" the sin eater watches from the wings and instantly feels better. That person then retreats to their own life, content that they have passed on their issues to you. These people will offer you all types of unsolicited advice and constantly tell you what they would do "if I was you". Sound familiar? I thought so. The grieving person can be anybody: your Mom, sister, soror, brother, co-worker, church member...anyone. Stand back and peep their game. Their situation is broken beyond repair but they will coach you on how to fix yours. They will NEVER ask you (or care) if you are happy. They will offer you advice, especially when you don't need it or want it. So, SJ (I did this just for you chick!) and everyone else who is reading, let us do a little exercise. Think and take inventory of all your issues...all the things that are "wrong" with you. The things that we obsess over, the things that sometimes depress us. Got 'em? Okay.

Now, one by one, let's place these things into two boxes : 1) Things that I see are wrong with me and 2) Things that other see/think/feel are wrong with me.
9 times outta 10, box # 2 will fill up with issues while box #1 will be almost empty.
Has anyone you know turned you into their sin-eater? The next time they give you unsolicited advice, use a tad bit of tongue-fu. Counter their words. Tell them thanks but no thanks and send them packing with their own baggage. Decline misery's invitation.

Murder Was The Case

Friday night, MrsS stepped out to Haooy Hour with some co-workers *a luxury since I became a wife and Mommy*. When I returned home at about 8:30, the two oldest boys met me at the door saying that there had been an "incident" In the hallway, I ran into Biggest and Middle Saditty who shook their heads and pointed towards my bedroom. I approached the bedroom and in the corner with her back to me sat Itty Bitty Saditty, brooding in Time Out. I asked MrSaditty to enlighten me. It all started when Middle and Biggest went to get our two oldest to tell them that Itty Bitty was disturbing their viewing of WonderPets by making very loud noises. When the four of them returned to the Baby Bedroom, Itty Bitty was no where to be found. They finally located her in the back bathroom, closing the shower curtain and hiding something behind her back. They quietly tracked her into the kitche and observed her quickly stuffing something into the trashcan. This is what was recovered. Apparently, she was whacked against the door jam until decapatation occured. Itty Bitty and this chick had a rocky relationship ever since the day Uncle M pulled her out of a ToysRUs bag. Personally, I never liked the chick (she couldn't decide if she was a baby or a grown woman, walking into my house with Shades, Stilettos, detachable afropuffs, and a THONG DIAPER) but she did not deserve this kind of death. The nature of the crime shocked me however I was not shocked by the criminal. Itty Bitty is a tad bit diabolical and sadistic but me and the Carmelite Nuns shall be working on that behavior shortly.

***Warning, the following scene may cause a disturbing feeling to immature viewers****

Exhibits A & B

Yuk-O-Rama #928,183,495

When we first purchased 2146, we noticed that our neighbors on the right had a large fence surrounding their propery. We also noticed that there is an above ground pool. With me so far? Ok, great. Well a few months later, MrSaditty told me that he heard a horse. I thought that he had guzzled one too many Red Stripes. A few days later, I heard it! Well, one day after going for a walk, we decided to peek thru the fence. A horse was standing at the pool, drinking water from the pool! Ask MrSaditty if you think I am lying! Well, that was the least of our confusion. That same weekend, they had a POOL PARTY (yeah, peeps were swimming and partying in the same pool that the horsie was sipping from!). MrSaditty wanted to stand in the bed of his truck to get some of the guests attention to warn them but I talked them out of it.

Summer is coming again and I normally avoid pools because of the pee factor....now people got horses drinking from them??? Beach, here I come.

When He Rides Away With the Other Woman

Two or three mornings out of the week, I watch my husband ride away on the other woman. Tears NEVER fail to escape my eyes. See, he has history with her. In fact, we both do.

When we purchased 2146 and moved 50+ miles away from his job, we felt the tilt in our pockets. My husband was roaring up and down the interstate in his V8 truck and petro was running about $400 a month. He then got smart and started taking the car, which had been parked for a while and the beautiful 13 gallon tank really started saving money. Then, fuel started rising again and my husband had a bright idea--a motorcycle.

I staunchly said "No!". Motorcycles and I also had a long history. When I was eight, my godfather (Parrain around these parts) was killed while crossing a railroad track on his motorcycle. I had a boyfriend in college who rode one and I sometimes rode with him and although it was quite fun but I always felt a tad bit uneasy. Then, my baby brother who is five years to the day younger than me had a series of awful falls, spills, and scrapes on his Kawasaki Ninja. This was mainly because of the stunts and showing off he did but after seeing him with his jaw swollen out to China, I had a somber talk with him and the tricks stopped. Now, he mainly rides on the weekends. Now, here was my husband telling me he wanted to buy a motorcycle.::::sigh:::::

At first, he was dead set on a crotchrocket sports bike. My NO turned into Heeeeeeeellll No. I pointed out many times that this was dangerous and he would not be getting anybodys bike. This became the source of an ongoing argument between he and I. Anyone who knows us knows that the only thing we ever fought about is his family, and we had since dismissed that argument. No more arguments... not about money, not about sex, nothing else. Well things got pretty hot and hectic over this motorcycle issue. When things came to a head and blew up, he sat me down.

He looked at me straight in the eye and asked me a series of questions. Do I come home every night? Yes, that's what you're supposed to do. Do I take you everywhere? Sure you do. Do I bend over backwards for you and the kids? All the time. Have I been supportive of everything that you've ever thought about, dreamed about, and attempted? Yep, you are always behind me 110%. Do I make spontaneous decisions without thinking about how it will effect you or the kids or our marriage? No, never. Have I exceeded your expectations as a husband? ::::sigh::::: Yes you have and continue to do that.

After answering all his questions, he told me that the motorcycle was something he wanted. I asked what would happen to us financially in the case of an accident. He reminded me of his large sick leave balance and went out and purchased an AFLAC policy. I reminded him how dangerous motorcycles are. He reminded me that in the Navy, he had been on both a Nuclear submarine and an aircraft carrier. He stated that both of them could've blown up or been blown up and any time. He also reminded me of the day that his very large and safe truck fishtailed on I-10 and he skidded off the interstate into a group of trees. He told me that accidents could happen anytime, at anywhere.

I went with him to the VA for a checkup one day and the Doctor (who I have grown quite fond of) overheard us discussing the subject yet again. He pulled me outside of the exam room and we had a brief chat.

"Mrs. Saditty, I sit here all day everyday and see disabled vets who turn to alcohol, drugs, and sometimes both. They feel as though their disabilities have ruined their lives and have nothing to live for. Mr. Saditty is, by VA standards disabled. He still works a full time job and is working towards a degree. If a damned motorcycle will help him stay sane, let him do it!" He then went back to business as usual.

After doing my research on this here innanet, I was willing to compromise. If he would get a cruiser (which research says is safer),  I would be okay with it. So for his first bike, he opted for a Harley Davidson. He is now on his second model and I still get nervous every time I hear it start up.

It is NOT easy being really deep in love with someone. You watch their every move. You wake up in the middle of the night to make sure they are still breathing. After seeing that his chest is still rising and falling, you are finally able to go back to sleep. You wait for that text message that he sends, letting you know that he made it safely. In the afternoon, you hold your breath until you hear his engine in the driveway. These days, since it is getting warmer, he is riding her more often. I swear I cannot breath until I hear Stevie Wonder's "I Just Called to Say I Love You" or "You are the Sunshine of My Life" piping through the speakers on my Blackberry. He made it. Safely.

It's been a while now. No accidents (knock on wood!). He has even found a club of men in their 30's, 40's, and 50's to ride with. Most of them are husbands and dads and they really look out for each other. It's weird to see my husband (who only has one friend, his bff) roaring away with a bunch of Daddies...lol....the other wives all say the same thing. Sometimes, we ride together and it feels soooooo good when I am holding him around his waist and he reaches down to rub my hand at a traffic light or stop sign.

In these days of high fuel, we save about $200 per month just by him taking the Harley. Everyday when he hits the interstate, my heartbeat gets put on hold. Will I ever get used to it? I doubt it. When we kiss in the morning, I NEVER let him say goodbye. Instead, I make him say "See you later!" I try to study every detail of his face every morning. Should something happen, I want to remember him just as he is. He laughs and tells me that I am being so, so paranoid. I tell him that I'm not being paranoid, I'm just being a wife. God sent him to me and I thank HIM every day for allowing me to keep him.