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In our first house, I made a wreath for our front door. It was huge, covering the width of the door, a circular styrofoam wreath swathed in purple bunting and ending with a gigantic bow with multi-colored tulips stuck in under the ribbon. Unfortunately, I do not have a picture, but it was bright and fun and I loved it. My husband Arthur thought it was a bit too big and a bit too bright, but since it was outside, he didn’t mind. My mom came to visit, saw my wreath, and said, “Who gave you that God-awful hideous thing on your door?! And do they visit often enough that you have to keep it hanging up?!” I responded, “I made it, Mom.” She just said, “Oh.” I didn’t care if my mom liked my wreath or not. I was proud of it. In our second house, we had a storm door, and my wreath didn’t fit between the door and the storm door. I tried hanging it on our back door inside, but then the door wouldn’t open all the way, which irked Arthur. I couldn’t hang it inside on the front door because the front door was metal, and if I used an over the door wreath hanger, the front door wouldn’t close properly. Remembering my mom’s reaction, I didn’t feel comfortable gifting my wreath to someone, so I put it into our church’s yard sale to raise money for local missions and it sold!
My mom has always been impeccable in all things. She dresses flawlessly, never has a hair out of place, and used to work as an interior decorator. She loathes clutter and lack of organization. My dad and I were always her complete opposites. We have never cared what we looked like or what we wore as long as we were clean and our clothes were comfortable. My mom always pretty much dressed both of us, since she cared enough for all of us what we looked like. I know my mom wanted a little princess for a daughter and what she got was my tomboy self. As a little girl my mom wanted to put me in frilly dresses with smocked bodices and multiple petticoats. I would wear them, but I would also play in the dirt in them. My grandma sewed jingle bells into the petticoats which made them more acceptable to me since the sound annoyed my mom and amused my dad.
My mom left my dad and I alone for a weekend when I was eight so she could participate in an out of state art sale. It was a wonderful weekend! My dad rented Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back on VHS to watch on our VCR that we had purchased only a few months before and then took me to see Return of the Jedi in the theater. My mom had decreed I was too young to see the first two movies in the theater. We ate hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill and got to put onions on them! My dad and I both loved onions but my mom hated them. When she came home, I don’t remember her exact words but her first comment to me regarded the fact that I was wearing the same clothes as when she left! She was horrified.
My mom took me to get a mother/daughter makeover when I was ten and insisted I wear the makeup she bought for me. I was never good at it, though. I really wanted the extra fifteen minutes of sleep I could get rather than wearing makeup. The worst thing I remember was getting ready to go on a date at age seventeen and my mom said, “You have hairs out of place!” and proceeded to pull them out.
The first time my mom saw my office, she said, “You are just like your father.” That is a very true statement even though she meant it in a derogatory way. My dad and I never had a filing system. We had a Piling system, but we knew what was in every pile and could find what we needed as long as nobody messed with our piles!
When my mom had a stroke in 2017, I flew to Missouri from Alabama to help my dad, who needed more help than I had realized. My mom had been covering for him more and had not let on. He needed help getting dressed so articles of clothing did not end up being worn inside out or backwards. I always managed to have both of us clean and mostly presentable when we visited my mom in the hospital, except one day he was wearing her slacks which she complained about. I thought they were unisex looking and didn’t see the point in making him change. Another day, my dad was dressed before I showed up to help and his undershirt was inside out and backwards, but it didn’t bother me. Of course, my mom, whose vision had been damaged by the stroke, managed to see the tag in the front and cried in dismay, “Molly Elizabeth! Can’t you even dress your father properly!?” To her shock, I responded, “No, I can’t.” I can’t even dress myself properly some days. I’m so absent-minded, I once wore my house slippers to a Board of Directors meeting. At least they were my black house slippers and not my Tribbles, and thankfully nobody noticed. When I was helping at church and wore one blue shoe and one black shoe, everyone noticed but, unlike my mom, didn’t mind.
When I left home at eighteen, I quit wearing makeup, exchanged contacts for glasses with funky, bright colored frames (my current glasses are purple with orange polka dots–very Weasley Wizard Wheezes-esque), and didn’t wear a dress for nearly two decades. I found out there were people who would like me for being my quirky, eccentric, geeky self. I married one of them. Arthur is a little more reserved and well put together than I am, but lets me be me. When we started ballroom dancing together, I became a bit more conscious of my appearance when surrounded by full-length mirrors every day. One day when I met Arthur at dance class, he glanced at me and whispered, “Did you get dressed in the dark?” I glanced in the wall of mirrors and responded, “I guess I did” and laughed. I did discover dresses again. It’s fun to have a full skirt twirl around my knees when I spin, and as a bonus, I can put on one thing and match!
Although Arthur is a fellow geek, he would not let me decorate the master bathroom of our third house in Doctor Who merchandise because he said it wasn’t restful. How is an exploding T.A.R.D.I.S. bathmat not restful? And he vetoed the Star Wars kitchen remodel because the reviews on the products I wanted to buy, such as a Darth Vader toaster, said the products didn’t work as well as traditional models and didn’t last as long. I did manage to sneak some Star Wars into the kitchen, though.
( Someone's in the kitchen with Yoda )
Arthur does join me in proclaiming our geek pride, though. It was his idea to hang our geeky sign in the family room rather than in our bedroom where I was going to put it. We had to explain every line of the sign to my mom. My dad would have understood it but never had a chance to see it.
( In this house we do geek )
We also display our collection of frogs in the family room. The ballroom dancing frogs were a gift from my mother last Christmas, and Arthur said it was his favorite gift from her ever. For years, she had a bad habit of buying us things she thought we should want rather than things we actually wanted. I’m glad she got over that and realized we want very different things than she does.
( Froggy Went a Courtin )
I do have my own areas of the house to decorate as I will. I have my wall of fun in the laundry room, which I created with items that had been in my office. It was something positive to do after being fired rather than continue to stare at the box of things from my former desk as they sat forlornly in the family room.
( Planet Molly is a Happy Place )
The library is entirely my domain to do with as I please, especially since with the pandemic and Arthur’s working at home, our office became his office. Many of my stuffed animals live on a shelf my grandpa made. He originally designed it to hold my mom’s Christmas plates, but she didn’t have a space in her apartment to hang the shelf so gave it to me. She was rather horrified I use it for stuffed animals but just rolled her eyes at me.
( The Plush Menagerie )
My mom has always been impeccable in all things. She dresses flawlessly, never has a hair out of place, and used to work as an interior decorator. She loathes clutter and lack of organization. My dad and I were always her complete opposites. We have never cared what we looked like or what we wore as long as we were clean and our clothes were comfortable. My mom always pretty much dressed both of us, since she cared enough for all of us what we looked like. I know my mom wanted a little princess for a daughter and what she got was my tomboy self. As a little girl my mom wanted to put me in frilly dresses with smocked bodices and multiple petticoats. I would wear them, but I would also play in the dirt in them. My grandma sewed jingle bells into the petticoats which made them more acceptable to me since the sound annoyed my mom and amused my dad.
My mom left my dad and I alone for a weekend when I was eight so she could participate in an out of state art sale. It was a wonderful weekend! My dad rented Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back on VHS to watch on our VCR that we had purchased only a few months before and then took me to see Return of the Jedi in the theater. My mom had decreed I was too young to see the first two movies in the theater. We ate hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill and got to put onions on them! My dad and I both loved onions but my mom hated them. When she came home, I don’t remember her exact words but her first comment to me regarded the fact that I was wearing the same clothes as when she left! She was horrified.
My mom took me to get a mother/daughter makeover when I was ten and insisted I wear the makeup she bought for me. I was never good at it, though. I really wanted the extra fifteen minutes of sleep I could get rather than wearing makeup. The worst thing I remember was getting ready to go on a date at age seventeen and my mom said, “You have hairs out of place!” and proceeded to pull them out.
The first time my mom saw my office, she said, “You are just like your father.” That is a very true statement even though she meant it in a derogatory way. My dad and I never had a filing system. We had a Piling system, but we knew what was in every pile and could find what we needed as long as nobody messed with our piles!
When my mom had a stroke in 2017, I flew to Missouri from Alabama to help my dad, who needed more help than I had realized. My mom had been covering for him more and had not let on. He needed help getting dressed so articles of clothing did not end up being worn inside out or backwards. I always managed to have both of us clean and mostly presentable when we visited my mom in the hospital, except one day he was wearing her slacks which she complained about. I thought they were unisex looking and didn’t see the point in making him change. Another day, my dad was dressed before I showed up to help and his undershirt was inside out and backwards, but it didn’t bother me. Of course, my mom, whose vision had been damaged by the stroke, managed to see the tag in the front and cried in dismay, “Molly Elizabeth! Can’t you even dress your father properly!?” To her shock, I responded, “No, I can’t.” I can’t even dress myself properly some days. I’m so absent-minded, I once wore my house slippers to a Board of Directors meeting. At least they were my black house slippers and not my Tribbles, and thankfully nobody noticed. When I was helping at church and wore one blue shoe and one black shoe, everyone noticed but, unlike my mom, didn’t mind.
When I left home at eighteen, I quit wearing makeup, exchanged contacts for glasses with funky, bright colored frames (my current glasses are purple with orange polka dots–very Weasley Wizard Wheezes-esque), and didn’t wear a dress for nearly two decades. I found out there were people who would like me for being my quirky, eccentric, geeky self. I married one of them. Arthur is a little more reserved and well put together than I am, but lets me be me. When we started ballroom dancing together, I became a bit more conscious of my appearance when surrounded by full-length mirrors every day. One day when I met Arthur at dance class, he glanced at me and whispered, “Did you get dressed in the dark?” I glanced in the wall of mirrors and responded, “I guess I did” and laughed. I did discover dresses again. It’s fun to have a full skirt twirl around my knees when I spin, and as a bonus, I can put on one thing and match!
Although Arthur is a fellow geek, he would not let me decorate the master bathroom of our third house in Doctor Who merchandise because he said it wasn’t restful. How is an exploding T.A.R.D.I.S. bathmat not restful? And he vetoed the Star Wars kitchen remodel because the reviews on the products I wanted to buy, such as a Darth Vader toaster, said the products didn’t work as well as traditional models and didn’t last as long. I did manage to sneak some Star Wars into the kitchen, though.
( Someone's in the kitchen with Yoda )
Arthur does join me in proclaiming our geek pride, though. It was his idea to hang our geeky sign in the family room rather than in our bedroom where I was going to put it. We had to explain every line of the sign to my mom. My dad would have understood it but never had a chance to see it.
( In this house we do geek )
We also display our collection of frogs in the family room. The ballroom dancing frogs were a gift from my mother last Christmas, and Arthur said it was his favorite gift from her ever. For years, she had a bad habit of buying us things she thought we should want rather than things we actually wanted. I’m glad she got over that and realized we want very different things than she does.
( Froggy Went a Courtin )
I do have my own areas of the house to decorate as I will. I have my wall of fun in the laundry room, which I created with items that had been in my office. It was something positive to do after being fired rather than continue to stare at the box of things from my former desk as they sat forlornly in the family room.
( Planet Molly is a Happy Place )
The library is entirely my domain to do with as I please, especially since with the pandemic and Arthur’s working at home, our office became his office. Many of my stuffed animals live on a shelf my grandpa made. He originally designed it to hold my mom’s Christmas plates, but she didn’t have a space in her apartment to hang the shelf so gave it to me. She was rather horrified I use it for stuffed animals but just rolled her eyes at me.
( The Plush Menagerie )
