I Might Have Missed My Calling

Oh Lord… we’re moving! And I don’t mean moving and grooving moving. I mean 'pack up my house, buy 60 boxes, lose the tape 40 times in an hour, have the marker dry out, and discover that Dennis has apparently decided the entire attic needs to come downstairs' moving!

We decided to get out from under the pool. Sure, the grandkids love it, but Dennis and I rarely get in it, and Dennis is over taking care of it. So we started talking about it and thought, why are we paying to take care of something that we hardly use?

So we decided to put the house on the market. Now, we have sold three other houses, so we know how this works. I personally sold one of them very quickly because I had a friend who wanted it, but the other two took over a year! Knowing it is a buyer’s market, we figured this one would probably take some time, too. We definitely didn’t want to end up paying two mortgages, so we thought we would put it on the market and start building our new house and see what happened.

Well, I designed this house with a private architect, so it is a little different. It is a custom-built house, and we built it for what WE wanted. We have a library, a craft/writing hut, and we only put two bedrooms in it so our grown kids didn’t get any ideas. We have a beautiful outdoor living area with a large pool and a huge backyard on a corner lot. Every tree is lit, and there are gardens around the pool. It is a beautiful house, but we knew we were probably looking for a very specific buyer. I figured it might take MONTHS to find somebody who wanted exactly what we had built. I wanted to get that head start on selling while we began building our new house.

Anyway, we decided to go ahead and put it on the market, so our realtor got all the information from us, had professional pictures taken and got it posted online. And then the phone rang. Within minutes, we had a call for a first showing. Well… okay then.

Our realtor came over at 11:00 to show the house for the first time and put a big ol’ “FOR SALE” sign in our yard. We had another showing scheduled for 6:30 that evening. Dennis was already griping about having to leave the house for showings. LOL. Then someone else was getting ready to make an offer on another house and wanted to squeeze ours in at 6:00.

So the 6:00 people came and looked at the house and apparently loved that it wasn't like any other houses they had seen. While the 6:30 people were STILL HERE looking at the house and thinking about making an offer, the 6:00 people made an offer.

I’m sorry… WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE? We don't have a house to move to yet! We went from “Let’s put the house on the market so we have more time to sell it” to “Holy crap, we sold the house!” in SIX HOURS!! That poor “FOR SALE” sign didn’t even have time to get comfortable in my yard before it went “Pending” on the website.

We thought this might take months. We were prepared for showings. We were prepared to keep the house clean. We were prepared for the possibility that it might take over a year. What we were NOT prepared for was that it would sell within the first 6 hours and that we would have 7 weeks to move.

So here I sit, taking a break from packing and wondering if I missed my calling in designing houses!

I Rolled My Eyes So Hard I Saw My Brain

 I just rolled my eyes so hard I saw my brain.

At least I think it was my brain. It could've been one of those random floaters. Once you hit a certain age, it's hard to tell what's a medical condition and what's just Tuesday.

Honestly, eye-rolling isn't what it used to be. There was a time when you could roll your eyes at somebody and move on with your day. Now it's a full-body event.

First, my eyes roll. Then my neck pops. My shoulder makes a sound like somebody stepped on a bag of potato chips. Somehow my knee gets involved even though it had absolutely nothing to do with the situation. And afterward, I have to sit there for a minute and make sure everything went back where it belongs.

Getting older is wild. We don't just react anymore... we recover.

I can't even sigh dramatically without wondering if I pulled something. And don't get me started on sneezing. At our age, a sneeze is less of a reflex and more of a gamble. Will I survive? Will I throw my back out? Will I accidentally pee a little? Nobody knows.

It's like spinning the Wheel of Fortune, except the prizes are muscle relaxers, heating pads, and an appointment with the chiropractor.

The funny thing is, I don't even roll my eyes over big things anymore. Someone says, "Have you tried turning it off and back on?" Eye roll. The grocery store rearranges everything for absolutely no reason? Eye roll. Someone announces they're leaving Facebook for the third time this month? Eye roll... even though we all know they'll be back by Thursday.

Somewhere along the way, my body stopped saying, "That was dramatic."

Now it says, "That'll be three days to recover."

So yes... I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my brain.

The good news is I finally know where it is.

The bad news is I think I strained my neck finding it. 😂

Play The Silly Games!

I hear people talk all the time about how important it is for kids to have grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and extended family in their lives. And I agree. But here’s the thing nobody seems to mention. You actually have to build the relationship. You can have 47 relatives sitting in the same room at Christmas and that doesn’t mean those kids have a relationship with any of them. And really, why have a family if you don’t want to be part of it?

Being Grandma doesn’t automatically create a bond. Neither does being Grandpa, Aunt Whoever or Uncle So-and-So. That’s your title. The relationship comes from what you actually DO with them. Play the silly games. Go watch them play ball, dance, sing, act or whatever they’re into this month. Listen to the 15-minute story that you still don’t understand. Ask them questions. Remember what they told you last time. Laugh with them. Take them somewhere. Teach them something. Let them help you cook. Sit down and actually TALK to them. And for heaven’s sake, put the phone down once in a while.

Kids notice who pays attention to them. They know who lights up when they walk through the door and who barely looks up. They know who makes them feel interesting, funny, important and loved. You can spend years sitting in the same room with a child and still be practically a stranger to them.

Then someday you can’t wonder why they don’t call, don’t visit or don’t seem particularly close to you. You can’t ignore their little world for years and then suddenly expect to be an important part of their big one. DNA gave you the connection. You still have to do the work to build the relationship. Family isn’t something you just have. It’s something you participate in.

About Raven Carter

Apparently, I Need to Introduce Myself to Google 

According to Google, there are other Raven Carters who are much better at being Raven Carter on the internet than I am.

Who knew?

So I figured I’d give Google a little help without giving the internet enough information to show up at my front door. I’m Raven Carter. The Oklahoma one.

I’ve lived a lot of different lives in this one lifetime. I’ve spent decades working with children, owned a business, directed plays, raised a family, survived more than a few “what the hell am I going to do now?” moments, and recently entered this strange little chapter called retirement.

I’m creative. I’m stubborn. I’m independent. I’m sentimental when nobody’s looking, sarcastic when everybody is, and I’ve never been particularly good at being told what to do.

I’ve directed actors on a stage and teachers in classrooms. I’ve dealt with children throwing fits and adults throwing bigger ones. Honestly, there’s not as much difference between those two professions as you’d think.

I’ve reinvented myself more than once.

I’ve been a daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, business owner, director, boss, friend, writer, troublemaker and probably a pain in somebody’s ass at least a few times.

And now I’m a blogger.

I write because I have stories. Some are funny. Some hurt. Some make absolutely no sense until you’re old enough to look backward and realize they were building the person you eventually became.

I’m not famous. I’m not trying to be. But I’ve lived a life worth remembering. So Google, if you’re listening: I’m Raven Carter. The Oklahoma one. That’s really all the internet needs to know. The rest of the story? My blog is at your finger tips. 

Then Do Something About It

We all complain. I complain. Sometimes complaining is therapeutic. You get it out, say a few bad words, tell your friend the whole ridiculous story, and feel better.

But eventually?

You have to do something.

You hate your job.

Every day.

You’ve hated it since 2019.

But you haven’t applied anywhere.

You’re always broke, but haven’t changed one thing you’re spending money on.

You’re exhausted, but you’re scrolling TikTok at 1:30 in the morning.

You’re unhappy in your relationship, but won’t have the uncomfortable conversation.

You complain nobody helps you, but every time somebody offers a solution, you have seventeen reasons why it won’t work.

At some point, I don’t know what we’re doing here. 😂

And yes, some situations are genuinely hard. Not every problem has an easy solution. Sometimes all the choices suck.

But doing nothing is still a choice.

You don’t have to change your entire life by Tuesday. Take one step. Make the phone call. Fill out the application. Cancel something you can’t afford. Have the conversation. Ask the question. Make the appointment.

Do something different.

Because if you’ve been complaining about the exact same problem for three years while refusing to change anything, maybe you’re not looking for a solution anymore.

Maybe complaining has become your hobby.

Change it.

Accept it.

Learn to live with it.

Or at least stop giving the rest of us weekly updates. 😂

Because eventually “I don’t know what to do” becomes “I know what I could do. I just don’t want to do it.”

And sometimes that’s the actual problem.

Somebody needed to say it.