This year has been a rollercoaster ride that I am so ready to get off of. The highs were amazing but tempered with the lows that were soul shattering.
January began with a very unexpected trip up north to Ohio for my dad's open heart surgery-LOW
It went well and he recovered quickly-HIGH
The next month we again went to Ohio for the funeral of a beautiful young family member who unexpectedly passed in her sleep. The bravery that her mother held on to is beyond my comprehension.-EXTREME LOW
The end of March brought our new grandson. 6 weeks early but healthy.-EXTREME HIGH (with a side of fear that he would have a rocky start being so early. He hasn't, he's perfect!)
April brought a new job for my sweetie. It wasn't one that we had planned for but we weren't in any position to pass it up.-HIGH
In June I watched my oldest son walk across the stage and accept his high school diploma-HIGH
We were on a roll with the ups.
Also in June we met our first granddaughter and I was elated. I spent several weeks becoming a hands on Gramma-HIGH
But just as quickly, I recognized that the dream relationship that I had so perfectly formulated in my head was not to be.-A LOW I HAVEN'T RECOVERED FROM AND DON'T EXPECT TO.
Early July brought family here for my son and nieces graduation party-HIGH
Same month with a house full of people our hot water tank decided this was a good time to spring a leak and stop working. Did I mention we had a house full of people?! Yeah.-NOT A HIGH
August I turned 43 (I totally typed 42 and had to think about how old I was, DUH).-NOT HIGH OR LOW, JUST ANOTHER DAY.
September brought our oldest daughter, her two sons and her husband to visit for a week. Again, I got to be a real Gramma-HIGH
In October we had a kid move back home. More estrogen that our house can handle-DEPENDS OF THE DAY WHETHER ITS A HIGH OR LOW.
November was fairly uneventful.
December was full of change. The biggest was learning that one of our children made a life altering decision that will have many rippling effects-LOW
New tires,car repairs and a couple of health scares thrown in to keep us appreciating what we have and 2010 comes to a close.
I've learned never to say it can't get worse. So I'll just say BRING IT ON 2011, we're ready! I think.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Laughter
I giggled at work today. I don't remember what we were laughing at but I distinctly remember thinking this feels good.
In my effort to catch photographic evidence of all the everyday, run of the mill, yet significant memories I take lots of pictures. I sometimes find pictures with awkward facial expressions from laughing or silly faces from fits of giggles and I'm tempted to delete them because they aren't perfect. You know what? They are perfect and I'm keeping them all. Those are the pictures I want to remind me of how good life is.
 |
| Cousins |
 |
| Family |
 |
| Mom and her girls |
Laughter really is the best medicine!
I need to remind myself of that more often.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The Letter P
Today's meltdown was brought to you by the letter P. As in procrastinating pack rat.
In a moment of self discovery or maybe it was just plain 'ol acceptance I determined that I am indeed both of those things! Of the highest degree!
My level of procrastinating can only be compared to an Olympic sport. I've been honing this skill for more years that I care to count. 14 years ago when my maternity leave was only 5 days shy of being over, I arrived at the conclusion that I *may* need a babysitter for my 6 week old squirming bundle. 5 days! I trusted my ability to find a suitable sitter to 5 measly days. I WAY over estimated my abilities. Turns out my sister located a God-sent woman who was more than qualified to oversee the day to day care of my tiny little guy. I couldn't tell you what I was thinking. Maybe that if I didn't have suitable daycare I wouldn't have to go back to work? Apparently all my brain cells slipped out of my nether regions with the baby.
All these years later and my razor-sharp skill of putting things off has only been brought to new levels. Months ago when I found out my job was moving I collected boxes to contain my 5+ years of belongings. Not one paperclip or thumbtack made it into the boxes until today. Through an ocean of tears I haphazardly filled several boxes with my collections of much needed office supplies and note filled post-its to deposit on my new desk tomorrow.
Among the very important paraphernalia I transferred to my box there may be 65 calender pages with the dates of EVERYTIME I colored my hair. I tend to jot things on my calender pages that some (less crazy) people might think unimportant. A diary of sorts. I can now recall things that Rainman couldn't rival. Who does that? Who needs to keep EVERY. SINGLE. PAGE. OF. EVERY. SINGLE. CALENDER from the last 5 years? Only people who are bat sh!t crazy save crap like that! I can't let them go. Why, I'm not sure what my brain thinks will happen if I toss them in the trash. Maybe someone will steal them from my car and use them for world peace. What? It could happen.
In a moment of self discovery or maybe it was just plain 'ol acceptance I determined that I am indeed both of those things! Of the highest degree!
My level of procrastinating can only be compared to an Olympic sport. I've been honing this skill for more years that I care to count. 14 years ago when my maternity leave was only 5 days shy of being over, I arrived at the conclusion that I *may* need a babysitter for my 6 week old squirming bundle. 5 days! I trusted my ability to find a suitable sitter to 5 measly days. I WAY over estimated my abilities. Turns out my sister located a God-sent woman who was more than qualified to oversee the day to day care of my tiny little guy. I couldn't tell you what I was thinking. Maybe that if I didn't have suitable daycare I wouldn't have to go back to work? Apparently all my brain cells slipped out of my nether regions with the baby.
All these years later and my razor-sharp skill of putting things off has only been brought to new levels. Months ago when I found out my job was moving I collected boxes to contain my 5+ years of belongings. Not one paperclip or thumbtack made it into the boxes until today. Through an ocean of tears I haphazardly filled several boxes with my collections of much needed office supplies and note filled post-its to deposit on my new desk tomorrow.
Among the very important paraphernalia I transferred to my box there may be 65 calender pages with the dates of EVERYTIME I colored my hair. I tend to jot things on my calender pages that some (less crazy) people might think unimportant. A diary of sorts. I can now recall things that Rainman couldn't rival. Who does that? Who needs to keep EVERY. SINGLE. PAGE. OF. EVERY. SINGLE. CALENDER from the last 5 years? Only people who are bat sh!t crazy save crap like that! I can't let them go. Why, I'm not sure what my brain thinks will happen if I toss them in the trash. Maybe someone will steal them from my car and use them for world peace. What? It could happen.
Monday, December 13, 2010
A Good Decision
Sometimes it amazes me how different my sweetie and I are yet how in love we've stayed over the last 14 years.
Nick was so tiny when we met. He was as much his baby as he was mine. Had he been just a tiny bit older, I may have teetered a little harder towards having a baby with my sweetie. Even now I can imagine what our sweet baby girl (yes, I'm sure it would have been a girl) would have looked like. We wouldn't have loved her any differently than his girls or my boys. She would have absolutely been the best of both of us.
In hindsight, it was genius that we decided 5 kids was more than enough. And that we took the appropriate measures to insure that I wouldn't change my baby lovin' mind. Seriously, we conceivably (total pun intended) could have had a half a dozen more kids. We also probably would have killed each other by now.
I'm not sure we could have ever have agreed on how to raise her. Maybe she would have felt removed from my boys or his girls. Or maybe she would have just been one of our six children. There are times when I wish I had waited to make the life changing decision to not have any children together. My choice may have been different had I waited.
There are times when I miss her, the little girl that may have been. Our decision was the right one, made at the time for the right reasons. But oh, what could have been.....
Nick was so tiny when we met. He was as much his baby as he was mine. Had he been just a tiny bit older, I may have teetered a little harder towards having a baby with my sweetie. Even now I can imagine what our sweet baby girl (yes, I'm sure it would have been a girl) would have looked like. We wouldn't have loved her any differently than his girls or my boys. She would have absolutely been the best of both of us.
In hindsight, it was genius that we decided 5 kids was more than enough. And that we took the appropriate measures to insure that I wouldn't change my baby lovin' mind. Seriously, we conceivably (total pun intended) could have had a half a dozen more kids. We also probably would have killed each other by now.
I'm not sure we could have ever have agreed on how to raise her. Maybe she would have felt removed from my boys or his girls. Or maybe she would have just been one of our six children. There are times when I wish I had waited to make the life changing decision to not have any children together. My choice may have been different had I waited.
There are times when I miss her, the little girl that may have been. Our decision was the right one, made at the time for the right reasons. But oh, what could have been.....
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Experiencing It All
When we first moved to Florida, it was hard to find the Christmas spirit anywhere near December. Sure we had some cool days but 70 degree weather does not lovingly coax you into holiday excitement like the 20 or 30 degree weather of Ohio does.
After being here for almost 10 years I've accepted that Christmas has very little to do with cold temperatures and much more to do with being with people that you love.
Over the last couple of days, I've done just that.
My sweetie, Nick and I went with Tracey, Tim and Katie to watch a Symphony in Lights display where IT SNOWED. Okay, so it was really a flurry of soap bubbles but it looked like snow and it was 50 or so degrees so we could kinda pretend it was snow. Nick was in awe. I forget that he doesn't remember snow well.
We also went to a re-creation of Bethlehem. Again it was chilly, enough that we shivered. It was extremely well done and reminded me that Christmas is less about shopping and gifts and more about remembering why we celebrate the holiday at all. Nick asked a lot of questions about what was happening. I kinda made up some of the answers but I don't think he knew I was bluffing (not on purpose). I got the important details right but for the life of me I couldn't remember what gifts the 3 wise men gave the baby Jesus. Frankincense, myrrh and gold I was reminded by the actors that were very convincing wise men. Of all of them I forgot the gold! I think I made up some other spice name. I might have said ginger root or something like that. My answer must have been at least a little authentic sounding, he didn't question it.
The Christmas tree is up and sparkling. It was lovingly decorated with the same carefully chosen decorations that we use every. single. year. I wouldn't trade any of my ornament for the most expensive decorations available. I love each one! We have 1 for each babies first Christmas of our grandchildren and some that we each acquired before his and her became ours. The rest we've purchased together. Our tree looks the same every year but I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't understand those people that buy new ornaments every year to change the "theme", no offense to those who do, I just don't get it.
The weekend will be rounded out by a visit to Busch Gardens. They have lovely Christmas shows and beautiful poinsettias. Sharing it with family only makes it more spectacular. The warmer weather does make this part more enjoyable.
Maybe some online shopping in the next couple of days. The shopping part may not be the focus of the holiday season but it is pretty awesome to to buy things for the people that I love.
Happy Holidays!
After being here for almost 10 years I've accepted that Christmas has very little to do with cold temperatures and much more to do with being with people that you love.
Over the last couple of days, I've done just that.
My sweetie, Nick and I went with Tracey, Tim and Katie to watch a Symphony in Lights display where IT SNOWED. Okay, so it was really a flurry of soap bubbles but it looked like snow and it was 50 or so degrees so we could kinda pretend it was snow. Nick was in awe. I forget that he doesn't remember snow well.
We also went to a re-creation of Bethlehem. Again it was chilly, enough that we shivered. It was extremely well done and reminded me that Christmas is less about shopping and gifts and more about remembering why we celebrate the holiday at all. Nick asked a lot of questions about what was happening. I kinda made up some of the answers but I don't think he knew I was bluffing (not on purpose). I got the important details right but for the life of me I couldn't remember what gifts the 3 wise men gave the baby Jesus. Frankincense, myrrh and gold I was reminded by the actors that were very convincing wise men. Of all of them I forgot the gold! I think I made up some other spice name. I might have said ginger root or something like that. My answer must have been at least a little authentic sounding, he didn't question it.
The Christmas tree is up and sparkling. It was lovingly decorated with the same carefully chosen decorations that we use every. single. year. I wouldn't trade any of my ornament for the most expensive decorations available. I love each one! We have 1 for each babies first Christmas of our grandchildren and some that we each acquired before his and her became ours. The rest we've purchased together. Our tree looks the same every year but I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't understand those people that buy new ornaments every year to change the "theme", no offense to those who do, I just don't get it.
The weekend will be rounded out by a visit to Busch Gardens. They have lovely Christmas shows and beautiful poinsettias. Sharing it with family only makes it more spectacular. The warmer weather does make this part more enjoyable.
Maybe some online shopping in the next couple of days. The shopping part may not be the focus of the holiday season but it is pretty awesome to to buy things for the people that I love.
Happy Holidays!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Chestnuts Roasting On An Open....Oh, Hell. How Did It Get To Be December?
We just got done cooking Thanksgiving dinner and by "we" I mean NOT me. It makes sense that December is here, only 6 days after turkey overload. Time doesn't stop moving at the speed of light just because I specifically demanded that it should. Usually, I would be super excited about Christmas shopping (or any shopping really) but this year I'm finding it hard to find any shopping inspiration.
When I was a kid I don't recall ever writing a letter to Santa. It wasn't necessary he just knew what I wanted. Every. single. year. Christmas morning was always amazing. There were MOUNTAINS of gifts. We received things we didn't even know we wanted but were delighted to have. The magic that was Santa was always alive and well in our house. No matter what the circumstances of our reality, Santa never disappointed. I remember showing my mom what Santa had brought after opening each carefully wrapped present. She was always as excited as we were. Her excitement was surely just a reflection of our wonder but she never let on that she knew exactly what was in each of those perfectly gift wrapped presents. We always had stocking that were perfectly filled to the brim. The facination of Christmas morning probably would have been the same with a smaller number of gifts but the sheer, overwhelming number of unopened treasures made for some sparkly memories.
Of course I now know that Santa's BFF was layaway and year long shopping. I don't think I've done a very good job of duplicating the wonder of those December 25th mornings for my kids but not for a lack of trying. Childhood should be filled with amazements that only a parent can create. Mine was!
When I was a kid I don't recall ever writing a letter to Santa. It wasn't necessary he just knew what I wanted. Every. single. year. Christmas morning was always amazing. There were MOUNTAINS of gifts. We received things we didn't even know we wanted but were delighted to have. The magic that was Santa was always alive and well in our house. No matter what the circumstances of our reality, Santa never disappointed. I remember showing my mom what Santa had brought after opening each carefully wrapped present. She was always as excited as we were. Her excitement was surely just a reflection of our wonder but she never let on that she knew exactly what was in each of those perfectly gift wrapped presents. We always had stocking that were perfectly filled to the brim. The facination of Christmas morning probably would have been the same with a smaller number of gifts but the sheer, overwhelming number of unopened treasures made for some sparkly memories.
Of course I now know that Santa's BFF was layaway and year long shopping. I don't think I've done a very good job of duplicating the wonder of those December 25th mornings for my kids but not for a lack of trying. Childhood should be filled with amazements that only a parent can create. Mine was!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
I Think I Need A 12 Step Program
I fail at moderation! Just enough of something is never enough for me. I'm also an impulse shopper. Which is a very expensive combination!
We went to Yankee Candle this past weekend. Instead of getting a couple candles I had to have 5, you know to make it an even $10.00. I could have bought MANY more but my sweetie was done humoring my craziness after inhaling about 548058 scents. But I did only buy one candle holder. Progress I say!
Next we stopped in at the cutest little spice and tea shoppe. One or two kinds of tea would have been sufficient but no, I had to have 4! There are 12 cups in each package. That's 48 cups of tea! Nobody needs that many cups of tea.
Bath and Body Works sucks me in every time! Damn buy 2 get 1 free sales. That should mean I would walk out with a small bag of 3 items. Oh no, that's for normal people. I end up with 6 or 7 items that I'm guaranteed never to use all of. And of all different smells.
Apparently I'm also unable to make a decision.
Cookies? A couple? Nope, 6 or 8 or 10.
I bought 2 headbands with 4 interchangeable flowers. Very cute, but headbands give me headaches. Why I needed to buy them at all is a mystery.
Issues? I haz em!
We went to Yankee Candle this past weekend. Instead of getting a couple candles I had to have 5, you know to make it an even $10.00. I could have bought MANY more but my sweetie was done humoring my craziness after inhaling about 548058 scents. But I did only buy one candle holder. Progress I say!
Next we stopped in at the cutest little spice and tea shoppe. One or two kinds of tea would have been sufficient but no, I had to have 4! There are 12 cups in each package. That's 48 cups of tea! Nobody needs that many cups of tea.
Bath and Body Works sucks me in every time! Damn buy 2 get 1 free sales. That should mean I would walk out with a small bag of 3 items. Oh no, that's for normal people. I end up with 6 or 7 items that I'm guaranteed never to use all of. And of all different smells.
Apparently I'm also unable to make a decision.
Cookies? A couple? Nope, 6 or 8 or 10.
I bought 2 headbands with 4 interchangeable flowers. Very cute, but headbands give me headaches. Why I needed to buy them at all is a mystery.
Issues? I haz em!
Monday, November 22, 2010
He Didn't Get It From Me
My kid can cook. Well!
I can't boil water. At all!
On our last trip to Hobby Lobby (my new favorite craft oasis) he strolled through the aisles of cake pans and icing tips with the glazed over look of a kid in a toy store. Seriously, he was mesmerized by pastry bags and gum paste. Gum paste doesn't even sound edible! Fondant smoothers, rolling pins and cookie cutters, oh my.
We left the store with a small bag containing: food coloring (guaranteed not to thin icing, in case that's important), 2 shiny, silver decorating tips, and tiny leaf shaped cutters. As far as he was concerned it was a treasure trove of the appropriate tools.
He decided that we would have cake for Thanksgiving with fondant instead of canned icing, which I tried to explain to him is just as good. He didn't believe me! I know these things, give me a can of chocolate frosting and a spoon and I've got a meal. Kinda explains my ever expanding waistline. Anyhow, I've researched fondant on the internets and let me tell you, no one has anything nice to say about it. We're going with a recipe of marshmallows and powdered sugar with water. We found a box of pre-made fondant that we could just roll out but the internet people said it doesn't taste very good so we passed.
Not only does he want it covered in fondant but it has to have layers. How many, I'm not sure. Personally, I think he's seen one too many episodes of Cake Boss on TLC. Oh, and not just white fondant. He wants colors! Ummm, marshmallows AND powdered sugar are white, color could be a problem. I bought icing coloring, so we'll give it a shot but I'm skeptical. The plan is to have brown fondant with orange, red and yellow leaves. Lofty goals in my opinion. I, of course, will have a very small part in the creation of this masterpiece because I don't have a strand of DNA that contains any baking genes.
He's barely able to contain his excitement about making this cake. Pastry school in his future? Possibly!
I can't boil water. At all!
On our last trip to Hobby Lobby (my new favorite craft oasis) he strolled through the aisles of cake pans and icing tips with the glazed over look of a kid in a toy store. Seriously, he was mesmerized by pastry bags and gum paste. Gum paste doesn't even sound edible! Fondant smoothers, rolling pins and cookie cutters, oh my.
We left the store with a small bag containing: food coloring (guaranteed not to thin icing, in case that's important), 2 shiny, silver decorating tips, and tiny leaf shaped cutters. As far as he was concerned it was a treasure trove of the appropriate tools.
He decided that we would have cake for Thanksgiving with fondant instead of canned icing, which I tried to explain to him is just as good. He didn't believe me! I know these things, give me a can of chocolate frosting and a spoon and I've got a meal. Kinda explains my ever expanding waistline. Anyhow, I've researched fondant on the internets and let me tell you, no one has anything nice to say about it. We're going with a recipe of marshmallows and powdered sugar with water. We found a box of pre-made fondant that we could just roll out but the internet people said it doesn't taste very good so we passed.
Not only does he want it covered in fondant but it has to have layers. How many, I'm not sure. Personally, I think he's seen one too many episodes of Cake Boss on TLC. Oh, and not just white fondant. He wants colors! Ummm, marshmallows AND powdered sugar are white, color could be a problem. I bought icing coloring, so we'll give it a shot but I'm skeptical. The plan is to have brown fondant with orange, red and yellow leaves. Lofty goals in my opinion. I, of course, will have a very small part in the creation of this masterpiece because I don't have a strand of DNA that contains any baking genes.
He's barely able to contain his excitement about making this cake. Pastry school in his future? Possibly!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Paging Dr. OMG Are You Out Of High School
Last week I made a doctors appointment with Dr. Awesome to look at some funky bumpy mess on my back. I figured it was probably a creepy rash that was obviously a symptom of some disease that only has investigational cures.
The appointment was today. Early this morning the office called me to let me know Dr. Awesome wasn't going to be in the office but that I could keep the appointment if I was okay to see the new doctor in the practice. Yea, whatever, I just wanted to make it go away. STAT!
After the obligatory weight (I took 10 pounds off in my mind), blood pressure and temperature I sat back and waited for the doctor to get to me. He knocked and opened the door. Standing there was a kid who looked to be about, oh, 12 or so. Certainly it wasn't bring your kid to work day at the doctors office. I just kept waiting for Dr. Dad to enter behind him, but no, this kid was the doctor!
I was going to make some witty comment about Doogie Howser MD but I was worried that A. He wasn't old enough to have ever seen Doogie Howser or B. I would seem REALLY old. I kept to the facts and gave him the run down of my embarrassing and completely gross symptoms. He took a look at my back (I'm pretty sure my bra strap was one of the first he'd ever seen). And declared that it was just acne. Since he's clearly still in puberty he probably knows what acne looks like so I'll take his word for it.
Apparently, the acne I had when I was a teenager took a hiatus and came back with a vengeance some 25 years later. Now I have an appointment with a dermatologist who better be older than Dr. Can't Buy Beer.
The appointment was today. Early this morning the office called me to let me know Dr. Awesome wasn't going to be in the office but that I could keep the appointment if I was okay to see the new doctor in the practice. Yea, whatever, I just wanted to make it go away. STAT!
After the obligatory weight (I took 10 pounds off in my mind), blood pressure and temperature I sat back and waited for the doctor to get to me. He knocked and opened the door. Standing there was a kid who looked to be about, oh, 12 or so. Certainly it wasn't bring your kid to work day at the doctors office. I just kept waiting for Dr. Dad to enter behind him, but no, this kid was the doctor!
I was going to make some witty comment about Doogie Howser MD but I was worried that A. He wasn't old enough to have ever seen Doogie Howser or B. I would seem REALLY old. I kept to the facts and gave him the run down of my embarrassing and completely gross symptoms. He took a look at my back (I'm pretty sure my bra strap was one of the first he'd ever seen). And declared that it was just acne. Since he's clearly still in puberty he probably knows what acne looks like so I'll take his word for it.
Apparently, the acne I had when I was a teenager took a hiatus and came back with a vengeance some 25 years later. Now I have an appointment with a dermatologist who better be older than Dr. Can't Buy Beer.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Craving Comfort
Home should be comfortable.
Family should be comfortable.
Work should be comfortable.
Then why am I finding it so hard to find comfort? I'm struggling to find a peacefulness. It feels like it's just out of my reach. Grasping and leaning over what sometimes feels like an abyss. Teetering with an all consuming fear of falling.
Some days I find my footing and creep a few more inches toward some tiny piece of contentment. Other days, every step I take crumbles a few more pebbles from under me. I want more than anything to feel settled.
Maybe it's the upcoming holidays, the changes at work or the mess at home. I wish I knew, I would gladly fix the cause if I knew what it was. I'm not expecting everyday to be rainbow and unicorn filled but a few days here and there that's as comfortable as a warm blanket straight from the dryer would be nice.
Family should be comfortable.
Work should be comfortable.
Then why am I finding it so hard to find comfort? I'm struggling to find a peacefulness. It feels like it's just out of my reach. Grasping and leaning over what sometimes feels like an abyss. Teetering with an all consuming fear of falling.
Some days I find my footing and creep a few more inches toward some tiny piece of contentment. Other days, every step I take crumbles a few more pebbles from under me. I want more than anything to feel settled.
Maybe it's the upcoming holidays, the changes at work or the mess at home. I wish I knew, I would gladly fix the cause if I knew what it was. I'm not expecting everyday to be rainbow and unicorn filled but a few days here and there that's as comfortable as a warm blanket straight from the dryer would be nice.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Cheating
Maybe the relationship got stale? Maybe I craved shiny and new? I was definitely lulled into a false sense of contentment. I was settling, I knew it. I've been loyal. Until now. Okay, so I strayed a time or two before but the reasons were right, I swear.
I've searched for things that just weren't there. I may have seen them once, but upon returning they were gone. No one could tell me where to find them, I was on my own. The cost has been just too high not to seek satisfaction somewhere else. I know it was more of a habit than a real sense of happiness. Yeah, maybe a little happiness seeped through as I weaved my way through the familiar. Newness was intriguing. I could feel the lure. The tugging of something that was not so familiar.
Michael's has been a go to place where craft cravings can be quenched. They had everything I needed. I could wander the aisles for stuff I didn't know I needed. It was a strain on my bank account sometimes, but I could justify most of the costs. There wasn't any other options until.....Joanne's Fabric and Crafts opened a huge, new location!
They had fabric! Something that Michael's just couldn't deliver. Mostly, I stayed faithful to Michael's out of some strange sense of obligation. Oh, and Joanne's had coupons. I was defenseless to the coupons. Who could blame me? It was 40%, they practically give things to me. All my feelings of a crafty nature were pacified. I thought I was satisfied.
Until today, when I succumbed to the itch to go astray. I struggled to remain devoted to Michael's and Joanne's but Hobby Lobby flashed it's rows of all things crafty and beautiful. Artsy projects that teased me with promises of awesomeness. I couldn't resist. I was pulled in by a magnetic force that I was helpless to defy.
I have no remorse. It was AWESOME!
I suspect this will be a long term relationship.
I've searched for things that just weren't there. I may have seen them once, but upon returning they were gone. No one could tell me where to find them, I was on my own. The cost has been just too high not to seek satisfaction somewhere else. I know it was more of a habit than a real sense of happiness. Yeah, maybe a little happiness seeped through as I weaved my way through the familiar. Newness was intriguing. I could feel the lure. The tugging of something that was not so familiar.
Michael's has been a go to place where craft cravings can be quenched. They had everything I needed. I could wander the aisles for stuff I didn't know I needed. It was a strain on my bank account sometimes, but I could justify most of the costs. There wasn't any other options until.....Joanne's Fabric and Crafts opened a huge, new location!
They had fabric! Something that Michael's just couldn't deliver. Mostly, I stayed faithful to Michael's out of some strange sense of obligation. Oh, and Joanne's had coupons. I was defenseless to the coupons. Who could blame me? It was 40%, they practically give things to me. All my feelings of a crafty nature were pacified. I thought I was satisfied.
Until today, when I succumbed to the itch to go astray. I struggled to remain devoted to Michael's and Joanne's but Hobby Lobby flashed it's rows of all things crafty and beautiful. Artsy projects that teased me with promises of awesomeness. I couldn't resist. I was pulled in by a magnetic force that I was helpless to defy.
I have no remorse. It was AWESOME!
I suspect this will be a long term relationship.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Ch..ch...changes
Had a meeting today that I've been dreading. A meeting to cement the details of my new job, which is pretty much the same job but at a different location with different coworkers. That doesn't sound so bad but my brain has morphed it into GIANT anxiety.
As I sat in a room full of other people who are facing the same changes I felt the pin prick of tears behind my eyes. I desperately tried to slow my breathing and willed the tears not to fall down my cheeks. Mostly I succeeded. At least until I got to my car after the meeting. I tried so hard to stay optimistic. There are some definite pluses. Every Friday off. Four 10 hour days. So much uncertainty though. I WILL NOT CRY everyday for the first six months! Did I mention I did that for my last job change? Embarrassing, I know. I didn't pick up the job as quickly as I expected myself to. I won't let that happen again!
I'll be okay. There will be growing pains but I won't be the only one experiencing them. I need some time to process all the information and package it into bite size segments. Big pictures overwhelm me, I hate it but it happens. Deep breaths. Doing my best. It will be okay.
As I sat in a room full of other people who are facing the same changes I felt the pin prick of tears behind my eyes. I desperately tried to slow my breathing and willed the tears not to fall down my cheeks. Mostly I succeeded. At least until I got to my car after the meeting. I tried so hard to stay optimistic. There are some definite pluses. Every Friday off. Four 10 hour days. So much uncertainty though. I WILL NOT CRY everyday for the first six months! Did I mention I did that for my last job change? Embarrassing, I know. I didn't pick up the job as quickly as I expected myself to. I won't let that happen again!
I'll be okay. There will be growing pains but I won't be the only one experiencing them. I need some time to process all the information and package it into bite size segments. Big pictures overwhelm me, I hate it but it happens. Deep breaths. Doing my best. It will be okay.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Martha Stewart and Hoarders
I love when my house is decorated for the holidays. With the mess from the mini-renovation that completely turned into a renovation of ginormous proportions there isn't much room for decorations of any kind inside the house. Therefore I felt it necessary to decorate my front porch. My inner Martha Stewart would not be muzzled, she demanded hot glue, glitter and silk plants!
You know how decorators start a project with an "inspiration piece"? I' ve watched HGTV, I know these things. I wanted a cute chair on the porch, not to sit on just to accessorize with appropriate holiday crap. I started at local thrift stores hoping to find a wicker or wooden chair that looked distressed and didn't need too much cleaning. Do you know what's at thrift stores? HOARDERS! Who else would need a shopping cart full to overflowing with sequin covered clothes, comforters and pillows with the most horrible kaleidoscope of mauve and blue flowers and Corell dishes circa 1972? There were people putting lamps in carts that had obviously spend the better part of the last couple of decades in someones great-grandmas basement. Clearly they should have skipped the thrift store circuit. Nobody needs a brass touch lamp with glass panels that have owls printed on them. The lady with them in her cart was extremely excited that there was a pair. I'm sure I'll be seeing her on Hording: Buried Alive, next season.
I found one white wicker chair that with 4 or 5 cans of white spray paint would have been acceptable for my porch decoration but that seemed like an awful lot of work and it was $15.00. Well above my budget. So what was I to do? I went to HomeGoods and bought a $40.00 chair. What? It was brand new, it was totally worth it.
Behold!
You know how decorators start a project with an "inspiration piece"? I' ve watched HGTV, I know these things. I wanted a cute chair on the porch, not to sit on just to accessorize with appropriate holiday crap. I started at local thrift stores hoping to find a wicker or wooden chair that looked distressed and didn't need too much cleaning. Do you know what's at thrift stores? HOARDERS! Who else would need a shopping cart full to overflowing with sequin covered clothes, comforters and pillows with the most horrible kaleidoscope of mauve and blue flowers and Corell dishes circa 1972? There were people putting lamps in carts that had obviously spend the better part of the last couple of decades in someones great-grandmas basement. Clearly they should have skipped the thrift store circuit. Nobody needs a brass touch lamp with glass panels that have owls printed on them. The lady with them in her cart was extremely excited that there was a pair. I'm sure I'll be seeing her on Hording: Buried Alive, next season.
I found one white wicker chair that with 4 or 5 cans of white spray paint would have been acceptable for my porch decoration but that seemed like an awful lot of work and it was $15.00. Well above my budget. So what was I to do? I went to HomeGoods and bought a $40.00 chair. What? It was brand new, it was totally worth it.
Behold!
 |
Without a doubt, Martha would approve. |
Friday, November 5, 2010
Greener Grass
Why is it that human nature is to want what we don't have? Believing that the grass is always greener in someone elses yard.
I watched out the window today as the clouds drifted in to cover the sun. It was grey and brooding, all I could think of is that it looked like snow was on the way. Not possible since I live in the south. Yet daydreaming about snow made me giddy, like a kid waiting on the radio announcment that school was cancelled for the day (in reality, that hardly ever happened). I've lived where it snowed, I didn't like it so much! I bought a wool peacoat a few days ago. I'm still not exactly sure why I needed it. Hopefully I'll get to wear it a couple of times in the next few months.
When I lived in a state where Mother Nature promised snow but rarely delivered I was thankful that she was often wrong. Scraping ice off the car with limbs that you can barely feel sucks. And shoveling thecrap white stuff was no walk in the park either. Those parts I don't miss!
Beautiful red and gold leaves floating to the ground from trees that seem to reach to the heavens can mesmerize me. Remembering days from many years ago that I dove into piles of the earthy smelling leaves sending the pile flooding back onto the lawn. Raking those leaves wasn't so much fun! I recall some blisters that threatening to cause me to amputate my fingers with dental floss. It's definately a plus that palm trees don't spread pesky leaves although I now know you can use an awesome leaf blower to corral them. Causing a swirling snowglobe of leaves fluttering like glitter.
I have a corner of my brain that I call the Norman Rockwell lobe. Sparkly visions of Christmas past, present and future are tuck in there. Perceptions of holidays that are far more embelished they could possibly ever be in reality. Still, it makes me happy to have bigger than life ideas about holidays, snow and the jewel colored leaves of fall. Even if the reality is never as grand as my Norman Rockwell inspired imaginary scenes I like that my imagination is capable of creating magnificent "the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence" scenarios.
I watched out the window today as the clouds drifted in to cover the sun. It was grey and brooding, all I could think of is that it looked like snow was on the way. Not possible since I live in the south. Yet daydreaming about snow made me giddy, like a kid waiting on the radio announcment that school was cancelled for the day (in reality, that hardly ever happened). I've lived where it snowed, I didn't like it so much! I bought a wool peacoat a few days ago. I'm still not exactly sure why I needed it. Hopefully I'll get to wear it a couple of times in the next few months.
When I lived in a state where Mother Nature promised snow but rarely delivered I was thankful that she was often wrong. Scraping ice off the car with limbs that you can barely feel sucks. And shoveling the
Beautiful red and gold leaves floating to the ground from trees that seem to reach to the heavens can mesmerize me. Remembering days from many years ago that I dove into piles of the earthy smelling leaves sending the pile flooding back onto the lawn. Raking those leaves wasn't so much fun! I recall some blisters that threatening to cause me to amputate my fingers with dental floss. It's definately a plus that palm trees don't spread pesky leaves although I now know you can use an awesome leaf blower to corral them. Causing a swirling snowglobe of leaves fluttering like glitter.
I have a corner of my brain that I call the Norman Rockwell lobe. Sparkly visions of Christmas past, present and future are tuck in there. Perceptions of holidays that are far more embelished they could possibly ever be in reality. Still, it makes me happy to have bigger than life ideas about holidays, snow and the jewel colored leaves of fall. Even if the reality is never as grand as my Norman Rockwell inspired imaginary scenes I like that my imagination is capable of creating magnificent "the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence" scenarios.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Falling Down
At times being a parent is a little like being tossed off the top of a mountain, bouncing and tumbling haphazardly down the side landing in a bruised heap at the bottom after targeting every tree and rock.
My nature is to lay at the bottom far too long letting the cuts sting and aches set in. If I was quicker to get up and dust myself off the hurt might not last so long.
I hate the feelings of embarrassment that I failed to instill values that should come naturally to my boys.
I can't convince myself that decisions that they make don't directly have anything to do with any failure on my part. I did and continue to do my best but there are times when my best isn't good enough. I could blame divorce or a lack of discipline because I felt guilty about my parenting inadequacies but at some point at least part of the responsibility is theirs.
There will be disappointments and decisions that shouldn't have been made but I need to wrap my head around the fact that they aren't all my fault. Some personal responsibility does belong to them.
I miss the days when just the disappointed look in my eyes was enough to lead to apologies that were sincere. Not just defensive arguing that I worry too much or that it wasn't their fault. My head know that letting them grow up includes letting them make mistake and hopefully learn from them but my heart still wants to protect them.
I guess I'll get up and head back up the mountain side. There really are some fabulous views up there.
My nature is to lay at the bottom far too long letting the cuts sting and aches set in. If I was quicker to get up and dust myself off the hurt might not last so long.
I hate the feelings of embarrassment that I failed to instill values that should come naturally to my boys.
I can't convince myself that decisions that they make don't directly have anything to do with any failure on my part. I did and continue to do my best but there are times when my best isn't good enough. I could blame divorce or a lack of discipline because I felt guilty about my parenting inadequacies but at some point at least part of the responsibility is theirs.
There will be disappointments and decisions that shouldn't have been made but I need to wrap my head around the fact that they aren't all my fault. Some personal responsibility does belong to them.
I miss the days when just the disappointed look in my eyes was enough to lead to apologies that were sincere. Not just defensive arguing that I worry too much or that it wasn't their fault. My head know that letting them grow up includes letting them make mistake and hopefully learn from them but my heart still wants to protect them.
I guess I'll get up and head back up the mountain side. There really are some fabulous views up there.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Technology Challenged
You know those people that don't know how to set their VCR clock, so it flashes 12:00 for eternity? That's me! And please tell me I'm not the only one on the planet that still owns a VCR. I love technology, I really do. But learning how to use most of it is lost on me.
Our cell phone contract is up and it's time to choose new phones. Although I don't have a trac phone or anything quite that basic, I do have a simple flip phone with a camera and a music player (that I don't use). I want a touch screen phone but I'm scared to death that I won't know how to use it. I can sign up for lessons right? RIGHT?! I don't get how anyone between the ages of 8 and 30 can pick up a phone and use it like it's an appendage that they were born with. Even after reading instruction booklets I can't figure them out. Clearly, I am technology handicapped.
I also think I may want a Kindle. I love to read and it looks pretty and shiny and awesome. I'd have to download A LOT of book to make it worth what I'd pay for it. Books that I can get free from the library. I'm a little afraid that if I get one it may be as useful as my Wii Fit. I searched for weeks for a Wii Fit.I finally found one and used it a grand total of ONCE. Now its collecting dust next to my VCR that is flashing 12:00.
I have a laptop. That makes me technology savvy, doesn't it?
Our cell phone contract is up and it's time to choose new phones. Although I don't have a trac phone or anything quite that basic, I do have a simple flip phone with a camera and a music player (that I don't use). I want a touch screen phone but I'm scared to death that I won't know how to use it. I can sign up for lessons right? RIGHT?! I don't get how anyone between the ages of 8 and 30 can pick up a phone and use it like it's an appendage that they were born with. Even after reading instruction booklets I can't figure them out. Clearly, I am technology handicapped.
I also think I may want a Kindle. I love to read and it looks pretty and shiny and awesome. I'd have to download A LOT of book to make it worth what I'd pay for it. Books that I can get free from the library. I'm a little afraid that if I get one it may be as useful as my Wii Fit. I searched for weeks for a Wii Fit.I finally found one and used it a grand total of ONCE. Now its collecting dust next to my VCR that is flashing 12:00.
I have a laptop. That makes me technology savvy, doesn't it?
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
For A Reason
Every now and then someone drops into my life that makes me realize I can be a better me.
A teacher, a friend, a boss.
Mostly they aren't a huge part of my life. But still influential enough to make me think about why things like change don't settle well with me. The relationships aren't generally even noticed much until they are over.
That very thing happened today. Someone I worked with moved on to much bigger things, leaving me with the thoughts about where I'm left. In a few short weeks I'll be leaving work that's familiar to me. I'll be learning new skills and hopefully building a new familiar. Opportunities are already being offered that weren't possible before.
I'm only changing work locations. She is changing EVERYTHING and she's excited about it! I've decided that I'm going to be excited about my changes too. I'm going to make the most of it. I still have a good job when so many people don't. I've kinda taken that for granted lately as I whine about what changes are being offered to me. And it really is an offer; no one is forcing me to go there. I can be a better me there! I'm excited about that.
People are put into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime. Someone who I'll miss told me that today.
A teacher, a friend, a boss.
Mostly they aren't a huge part of my life. But still influential enough to make me think about why things like change don't settle well with me. The relationships aren't generally even noticed much until they are over.
That very thing happened today. Someone I worked with moved on to much bigger things, leaving me with the thoughts about where I'm left. In a few short weeks I'll be leaving work that's familiar to me. I'll be learning new skills and hopefully building a new familiar. Opportunities are already being offered that weren't possible before.
I'm only changing work locations. She is changing EVERYTHING and she's excited about it! I've decided that I'm going to be excited about my changes too. I'm going to make the most of it. I still have a good job when so many people don't. I've kinda taken that for granted lately as I whine about what changes are being offered to me. And it really is an offer; no one is forcing me to go there. I can be a better me there! I'm excited about that.
People are put into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime. Someone who I'll miss told me that today.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Ummm, No Thanks
A couple times a week I have advertisements left tied to my mail box. I can appreciate that area small businesses are trying to increase their client base but I'm getting a little paranoid. It's like they're screaming "everything at your house is a mess". LOUDLY.
Sometimes it's a "Gloria's Green Thumb" like business. You know pretty much mocking me about how in need of yard work our garden (I use that term very loosely) is. Maybe I like my weeds masquerading as flowers.
A couple days ago it was "Polly's Pressure Washing"( I'm pretty sure that's not the real name of anyone that works there). If they took a close look at the house they would realize that pressure washing would probably strip the paint right off. So, I'm gonna pass on their 30% off discount offer.
Occasionally "Chloe's Cleaning Service" wants to clean our windows or carpets for a discounted rate. Seriously, it's like they are looking in our windows and giggling about how messy we are. I hope their not peering in during a clothing optional time cause that could do some serious damage to someones poor, unsuspecting retinas.
Yesterday I found an offer for holiday services. Starting at just $55.00 "Happy Harvey's Holiday Helper" will set up a Christmas tree or iron a tablecloth and napkins Really?! Who has table clothes that need ironed? Don't they know that ironing plastic will melt it? There was also an offer to prepare holiday meals IN MY HOME. That is just creepy!
I gotta admit I'm sorta freaked out that these companies know a little too much about my cleaning and cooking issues. Really people STOP LOOKING IN MY WINDOWS!
Sometimes it's a "Gloria's Green Thumb" like business. You know pretty much mocking me about how in need of yard work our garden (I use that term very loosely) is. Maybe I like my weeds masquerading as flowers.
A couple days ago it was "Polly's Pressure Washing"( I'm pretty sure that's not the real name of anyone that works there). If they took a close look at the house they would realize that pressure washing would probably strip the paint right off. So, I'm gonna pass on their 30% off discount offer.
Occasionally "Chloe's Cleaning Service" wants to clean our windows or carpets for a discounted rate. Seriously, it's like they are looking in our windows and giggling about how messy we are. I hope their not peering in during a clothing optional time cause that could do some serious damage to someones poor, unsuspecting retinas.
Yesterday I found an offer for holiday services. Starting at just $55.00 "Happy Harvey's Holiday Helper" will set up a Christmas tree or iron a tablecloth and napkins Really?! Who has table clothes that need ironed? Don't they know that ironing plastic will melt it? There was also an offer to prepare holiday meals IN MY HOME. That is just creepy!
I gotta admit I'm sorta freaked out that these companies know a little too much about my cleaning and cooking issues. Really people STOP LOOKING IN MY WINDOWS!
Monday, October 25, 2010
His Day
He says it's just another day. It's not.
I'm convinced that he was born on this day 13 years before me to be exactly where we are today. To complete each other and to share our life together. We both made mistakes that we learned from so that we could be perfect for each other when the time was right.
I wish I could give him all the things he deserves. I'd create the perfect day in the perfect place. But life rarely allows perfect anything. Jobs get in the way. Obligations and responsibilities. For now, brief kisses and short phone calls between jobs will have to suffice. Later, maybe chocolate cake. He deserves so much more!
Happy Birthday Sweetie! I love you!
I'm convinced that he was born on this day 13 years before me to be exactly where we are today. To complete each other and to share our life together. We both made mistakes that we learned from so that we could be perfect for each other when the time was right.
I wish I could give him all the things he deserves. I'd create the perfect day in the perfect place. But life rarely allows perfect anything. Jobs get in the way. Obligations and responsibilities. For now, brief kisses and short phone calls between jobs will have to suffice. Later, maybe chocolate cake. He deserves so much more!
Happy Birthday Sweetie! I love you!
Friday, October 22, 2010
Survival
I hate when I get things I've heard mixed up. Like tips on surviving wild animal attacks.
Today seemed like a good day for a walk at lunch. I knew a departure from my normal nap was not a good idea but I did it anyway. I shoulda known I was just asking for trouble.
There is A LOT of water and nature-y, weedy areas near the building where I work. I'm careful to scan the grass for critters when I'm walking next to it on the sidewalk. Every now and then frogs and such jump to the sidewalk. Kinda cute. NOT today!
All was good; I was enjoying my little walk until I saw it. A GIANT BLACK SNAKE! It was practically on the sidewalk. It was coiled up in a ball about the size of....I can't even tell you. It was BIG and its head was all perked up with its tongue flicking all around. They smell with their tongues, don't they? I'm sure I smelled like grade A prime rib! I knew it was important to know what it looked like in case it bit me. You know, so the coroner could tell everyone what kind of snake bite I died from. I was afraid to look at it. Do I make eye contact? What animal is it that you don't look right in the eyes? Would that be a sign of aggression causing him to spit poisonous junk in my eye? It totally could have been a spitting cobra! Or maybe I was thinking of Medusa and her snake hair. It's hard to concentrate when you're about to be eaten by a snake. My brain was screaming RUN, but what if it chased me? They do chase prey, right? Or was I supposed to stand there and pretend I was dead so it would slither away? Now that I'm safely FAR away from the snake I remember it's a bear you're supposed to play dead for.
What I really wanted was for a knight in shining armor with a shovel to rescue me and fling the killer snake into the water. I waited for about 2.3 seconds but no one showed up so I RAN FAST. It's hard to think clearly when standing in the face of death but looking back it may not have been that big, but it was a SNAKE and that's all that matters!
Today seemed like a good day for a walk at lunch. I knew a departure from my normal nap was not a good idea but I did it anyway. I shoulda known I was just asking for trouble.
There is A LOT of water and nature-y, weedy areas near the building where I work. I'm careful to scan the grass for critters when I'm walking next to it on the sidewalk. Every now and then frogs and such jump to the sidewalk. Kinda cute. NOT today!
All was good; I was enjoying my little walk until I saw it. A GIANT BLACK SNAKE! It was practically on the sidewalk. It was coiled up in a ball about the size of....I can't even tell you. It was BIG and its head was all perked up with its tongue flicking all around. They smell with their tongues, don't they? I'm sure I smelled like grade A prime rib! I knew it was important to know what it looked like in case it bit me. You know, so the coroner could tell everyone what kind of snake bite I died from. I was afraid to look at it. Do I make eye contact? What animal is it that you don't look right in the eyes? Would that be a sign of aggression causing him to spit poisonous junk in my eye? It totally could have been a spitting cobra! Or maybe I was thinking of Medusa and her snake hair. It's hard to concentrate when you're about to be eaten by a snake. My brain was screaming RUN, but what if it chased me? They do chase prey, right? Or was I supposed to stand there and pretend I was dead so it would slither away? Now that I'm safely FAR away from the snake I remember it's a bear you're supposed to play dead for.
What I really wanted was for a knight in shining armor with a shovel to rescue me and fling the killer snake into the water. I waited for about 2.3 seconds but no one showed up so I RAN FAST. It's hard to think clearly when standing in the face of death but looking back it may not have been that big, but it was a SNAKE and that's all that matters!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Just a Swingin
I have...oh...lets call them mood swings.
If hurricane force winds can be called a breeze.
I feel them coming on, I usually know when to expect them.
But sometimes, out of no where...CRASH...right down in the middle of my day.
Anyone from the Midwest know the sound of a tornado warning. It would only be fair to everyone around me if they were afforded this same luxury right before this CRASH happens.
I like to say I'm fussy. Really? I'm hateful and short tempered.
I spend a lot of time saying I'm sorry. I REALLY AM SORRY!
People who are the center of my world live with this unknown everyday. Saying I'm sorry doesn't begin to scratch the surface.
Today, I had to tell my sweetie that I was sorry. He said "for what". Really! He tries to make me believe he really doesn't notice that I'm one electro-shock therapy treatment away from losing my mind.
For now, I need to keep thinking that.
If hurricane force winds can be called a breeze.
I feel them coming on, I usually know when to expect them.
But sometimes, out of no where...CRASH...right down in the middle of my day.
Anyone from the Midwest know the sound of a tornado warning. It would only be fair to everyone around me if they were afforded this same luxury right before this CRASH happens.
I like to say I'm fussy. Really? I'm hateful and short tempered.
I spend a lot of time saying I'm sorry. I REALLY AM SORRY!
People who are the center of my world live with this unknown everyday. Saying I'm sorry doesn't begin to scratch the surface.
Today, I had to tell my sweetie that I was sorry. He said "for what". Really! He tries to make me believe he really doesn't notice that I'm one electro-shock therapy treatment away from losing my mind.
For now, I need to keep thinking that.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Yea for Fall, Y'all
Without looking at a calender it's kinda hard to tell when it's Fall in Florida.
There are subtle hints like the weather. Instead of 90 degrees it's a cool 82.
There is a quiet whisper from the mall to rush in and buy sweaters, long sleeves and jeans. What? We have air conditioning and it gets cool inside (and if it's not cool enough I turn the temperature down). Shhhhh, don't tell my husband he has no clue why our electric bill is 300.00 dollars a month. Seriously, Old Navy has the cutest sweaters!
There are pumpkin patches everywhere. Okay, so they're not really patches exactly, more like small mounds at the grocery store. Yeah, I guess they're really gourds but they could totally grow up to be pumpkins. You know if they were still attached to the vine. And rooted in the dirt. Or maybe I was looking at squash and zucchini. Produce confuses me but I could so make a really cool jack o lantern out of one of those.
Oh, and caramel apples! Beware though, they're VERY dangerous. I bought some pre-sliced granny smith apples. I'm no dummy, I know many people who have cut off fingers cutting up apples. Well, maybe not exactly cut them off but you get the point. Anyway, I knew I had some caramel dip in the fridge (nevermind that it was "best sold by" July 2009. It's sugar how "bad" can it go?) I transferred a couple scoops to a little tupperware container (read: Glad reusable container, tupperware is overrated and expensive) and took it to work. It was a little thick when I tried to eat it with my apples so I put it in the microwave for 30 seconds or so. It boiled a tiny bit so I stirred it with an apple slice and stuck it in mouth. OH EM GEE! I burned off about 3/4ths of my taste buds! After the tears stopped I put my little container in the fridge to cool. Guess what? Even if the container feels cool, when you stir the caramel again IT. IS. STILL. HOT! I know this because I stuck my finger in it and was quickly reminded of when I lost my fingerprint to the evil hot glue gun.
Most of our trees don't change color in the fall but every now and then a dry, brown leaf will blow across my path and I thank my lucky stars that I don't have to rake all those pretty colored leaves.
Autumn is awesome. No matter where you live.
There are subtle hints like the weather. Instead of 90 degrees it's a cool 82.
There is a quiet whisper from the mall to rush in and buy sweaters, long sleeves and jeans. What? We have air conditioning and it gets cool inside (and if it's not cool enough I turn the temperature down). Shhhhh, don't tell my husband he has no clue why our electric bill is 300.00 dollars a month. Seriously, Old Navy has the cutest sweaters!
There are pumpkin patches everywhere. Okay, so they're not really patches exactly, more like small mounds at the grocery store. Yeah, I guess they're really gourds but they could totally grow up to be pumpkins. You know if they were still attached to the vine. And rooted in the dirt. Or maybe I was looking at squash and zucchini. Produce confuses me but I could so make a really cool jack o lantern out of one of those.
Oh, and caramel apples! Beware though, they're VERY dangerous. I bought some pre-sliced granny smith apples. I'm no dummy, I know many people who have cut off fingers cutting up apples. Well, maybe not exactly cut them off but you get the point. Anyway, I knew I had some caramel dip in the fridge (nevermind that it was "best sold by" July 2009. It's sugar how "bad" can it go?) I transferred a couple scoops to a little tupperware container (read: Glad reusable container, tupperware is overrated and expensive) and took it to work. It was a little thick when I tried to eat it with my apples so I put it in the microwave for 30 seconds or so. It boiled a tiny bit so I stirred it with an apple slice and stuck it in mouth. OH EM GEE! I burned off about 3/4ths of my taste buds! After the tears stopped I put my little container in the fridge to cool. Guess what? Even if the container feels cool, when you stir the caramel again IT. IS. STILL. HOT! I know this because I stuck my finger in it and was quickly reminded of when I lost my fingerprint to the evil hot glue gun.
Most of our trees don't change color in the fall but every now and then a dry, brown leaf will blow across my path and I thank my lucky stars that I don't have to rake all those pretty colored leaves.
Autumn is awesome. No matter where you live.
Friday, October 15, 2010
What page is this on in the parental handbook?
It's report card time. I'm afraid to look.
Nick asked if he could spend the night with a friend tonight. I had to say no and it hurts. He was so disappointed. When people tell their kids "this hurts me more than it hurts you", it's really very true. I'm not even sure this tactic is effective. Is he really going to remember in 2 weeks during an extra boring class when his mind drifts that I told him he couldn't stay the night with a friend because of his grades?
I've caved. I let him watch TV and occasionally play on the computer. He got a 97 percent on a book report! He was so proud of himself when he brought the grade home. I was elated and crazy happy that his teacher recognized how hard he worked on his report and those clay bananas. It really was very cute. He understood what he read, he CAN do this. He just doesn't do it consistently.
When the boys were babies I couldn't wait til they slept through the night and I didn't have to wake up every 2 hours ALL. NIGHT. LONG. I was silly enough to think that that was the hard part of being a parent.
This weekend he'll stay with his father. I'll feel bad for making him go. What am I really accomplishing?
Nick asked if he could spend the night with a friend tonight. I had to say no and it hurts. He was so disappointed. When people tell their kids "this hurts me more than it hurts you", it's really very true. I'm not even sure this tactic is effective. Is he really going to remember in 2 weeks during an extra boring class when his mind drifts that I told him he couldn't stay the night with a friend because of his grades?
I've caved. I let him watch TV and occasionally play on the computer. He got a 97 percent on a book report! He was so proud of himself when he brought the grade home. I was elated and crazy happy that his teacher recognized how hard he worked on his report and those clay bananas. It really was very cute. He understood what he read, he CAN do this. He just doesn't do it consistently.
When the boys were babies I couldn't wait til they slept through the night and I didn't have to wake up every 2 hours ALL. NIGHT. LONG. I was silly enough to think that that was the hard part of being a parent.
This weekend he'll stay with his father. I'll feel bad for making him go. What am I really accomplishing?
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Well, it happened. I showed my ass.
As my mom and my husband will attest, I keep clothes FOREVER! It's not that I'm opposed to spending money on new clothes. God knows I am the queen of retail therapy! If my clothes could talk there would be conversations from high school to today (yes, I bought clothes today). I have clothes with tags still on them ( I know, that's a symptom of hoarding. Lets pretend it's not, K?).
My uniform for work consists of khaki pants and button down oxford shirts with company logos on them. I have 5 pair of pants that are carefully rotated (to be worn evenly) by my super awesome laundry lady (thanks, Mom). Don't be all judge-y that I have a laundry lady, I pay her. Not as much s she's worth though, she deserves a raise. That's a post for later.
I started out with 5 pair of the exact same pants and over the last year or so I've weeded them out and replaced them with new. Mostly because I tend to stain ALL of my clothes pretty much like a 2 year old. I do have one pair of my original pants left. They are softly worn and pretty comfy.
Today I wore those.
I tend to go out to my car at lunch to decompress. I strolled across the parking lot to my car and opened the door. Side note: my car looks like a homeless person lives in it. Candy wrappers, bank receipts, straw wrappers, pretty much anything that will fit into the compartment on the bottom of the door. When I opened the door some of my junk spilled out onto the parking lot. I bent down to pick it up and it happened. I felt the fabric split and a breeze caressed my heiny.
My first thought was to drive home and NEVER go back to work but that isn't really practical so I got into the car and drove to Target. I waited until there wasn't a soul in the parking lot to see my not-so-perky behind peeking out of my pants. When the coast was clear, I walked quickly (with my purse strategically placed) into the store. I kept my back to the walls and walked the whole perimeter of the store to save my self what dignity I had left. I grabbed the first pair of khaki pants in my size and sashayed to the checkout. Praying under my breath that no one got behind me. With a quick swipe of my debit card I was out of there and sprinting to my car. I made it with my pride mostly intact. After a quick change I was back to work.
On my way out to my car after work I stopped to tinkle. As I unfastened my new pants the button fell off and bounced across the bathroom floor directly towards the drain in the floor. I practically dove on it to keep it from being lost forever.
The bright side is that I have two new pair of pants for work. I am also very closely examining my remaining pairs.
My uniform for work consists of khaki pants and button down oxford shirts with company logos on them. I have 5 pair of pants that are carefully rotated (to be worn evenly) by my super awesome laundry lady (thanks, Mom). Don't be all judge-y that I have a laundry lady, I pay her. Not as much s she's worth though, she deserves a raise. That's a post for later.
I started out with 5 pair of the exact same pants and over the last year or so I've weeded them out and replaced them with new. Mostly because I tend to stain ALL of my clothes pretty much like a 2 year old. I do have one pair of my original pants left. They are softly worn and pretty comfy.
Today I wore those.
I tend to go out to my car at lunch to decompress. I strolled across the parking lot to my car and opened the door. Side note: my car looks like a homeless person lives in it. Candy wrappers, bank receipts, straw wrappers, pretty much anything that will fit into the compartment on the bottom of the door. When I opened the door some of my junk spilled out onto the parking lot. I bent down to pick it up and it happened. I felt the fabric split and a breeze caressed my heiny.
My first thought was to drive home and NEVER go back to work but that isn't really practical so I got into the car and drove to Target. I waited until there wasn't a soul in the parking lot to see my not-so-perky behind peeking out of my pants. When the coast was clear, I walked quickly (with my purse strategically placed) into the store. I kept my back to the walls and walked the whole perimeter of the store to save my self what dignity I had left. I grabbed the first pair of khaki pants in my size and sashayed to the checkout. Praying under my breath that no one got behind me. With a quick swipe of my debit card I was out of there and sprinting to my car. I made it with my pride mostly intact. After a quick change I was back to work.
On my way out to my car after work I stopped to tinkle. As I unfastened my new pants the button fell off and bounced across the bathroom floor directly towards the drain in the floor. I practically dove on it to keep it from being lost forever.
The bright side is that I have two new pair of pants for work. I am also very closely examining my remaining pairs.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Hands
Hands fascinate me.
Baby hands with tiny dimpled knuckles. Finding feet that are ever so elusive.
Hands of my grandma that would inadvertently fold creases into her pants leg as she talked or confidently complete crossword puzzles in ink.
I distinctly remember touching my grandparents hands for the last time.
The hands of the elderly couple that easily find each others walking in the park. Conveying a lifetime of comfort and love.
I watched a woman today at the surgery center as her husband handed her his wedding ring when he was lead off by a nurse for whatever procedure he was having. She lovingly put the ring on her index finger and spent the next couple of hours absently caressing it. I could see her counting the seconds until she could return his ring to the rightful place that it obviously belonged.
My sweetie and I have been holding hands since almost the day we met. In the car. Sitting on the couch watching TV. Anytime we walk next to each other. Always! We are gonna be that elderly couple. I find much comfort in holding hands and touching his fingers.
Baby hands with tiny dimpled knuckles. Finding feet that are ever so elusive.
Hands of my grandma that would inadvertently fold creases into her pants leg as she talked or confidently complete crossword puzzles in ink.
I distinctly remember touching my grandparents hands for the last time.
The hands of the elderly couple that easily find each others walking in the park. Conveying a lifetime of comfort and love.
I watched a woman today at the surgery center as her husband handed her his wedding ring when he was lead off by a nurse for whatever procedure he was having. She lovingly put the ring on her index finger and spent the next couple of hours absently caressing it. I could see her counting the seconds until she could return his ring to the rightful place that it obviously belonged.
My sweetie and I have been holding hands since almost the day we met. In the car. Sitting on the couch watching TV. Anytime we walk next to each other. Always! We are gonna be that elderly couple. I find much comfort in holding hands and touching his fingers.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Ouch!
You know those old people that you don't dare ask how they feel, cause they will tell you? You'll hear about every bowel movement, every bunion, every ache of every arthritic joint. You might even get a first class tour of the medicine cabinet with salves (that word is just weird), ointments and pills of miscellaneous shapes and sizes.
I'm becoming that person! Only not as old and not as free with the spewing of the details of what hurts when.
Usually.
Several months ago my right arm started hurting, like from my shoulder to my elbow. After some xrays I found out I have degenerative disc disease and bone spurs on the vertebra in my neck. Imagine little daggers being thrust into a nerve with every movement. Yep, that about sums it up. After some therapy and a couple of massages it got better. Yea!
But...today I woke up with a crick (I don't think that a real medical term but maybe) in my neck. As the day wore on my left arm started to hurt. Again from my shoulder to my elbow. I guess my spurs are equal opportunity ouchies. I don't have time for more therapy or massages so it's just gonna have to get better on its own.
I'll spare you the details of my creaking knees and popping hips. Getting old is not for the faint of heart!
I'm becoming that person! Only not as old and not as free with the spewing of the details of what hurts when.
Usually.
Several months ago my right arm started hurting, like from my shoulder to my elbow. After some xrays I found out I have degenerative disc disease and bone spurs on the vertebra in my neck. Imagine little daggers being thrust into a nerve with every movement. Yep, that about sums it up. After some therapy and a couple of massages it got better. Yea!
But...today I woke up with a crick (I don't think that a real medical term but maybe) in my neck. As the day wore on my left arm started to hurt. Again from my shoulder to my elbow. I guess my spurs are equal opportunity ouchies. I don't have time for more therapy or massages so it's just gonna have to get better on its own.
I'll spare you the details of my creaking knees and popping hips. Getting old is not for the faint of heart!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Therapy
I have the most awesome therapist.
I never have to make an appointment.
My insurance doesn't pay her. But she doesn't mind.
She has an endless supply of hugs. Sometimes that's all it takes to feel better, sometimes not.
She lets me cry and supplies tissues.
She gives her opinion but never judges me. She freely gives suggestions but understands if I don't use them.
I feel safe there. Almost in control.
But if I lose it and meltdown she lets me.
She listens until I've run out of tears and find my smile again.
She's only a phone call away ALWAYS.
She just gets me and understands when I don't make any sense. Like saying my kitchen is overwhelming because there are too many empty spaces and I don't know where to put things (that doesn't even make sense to me!).
I don't tell her enough how awesome she is and how much I appreciate her.
She is my mom!
I LOVE YOU MOM!
I never have to make an appointment.
My insurance doesn't pay her. But she doesn't mind.
She has an endless supply of hugs. Sometimes that's all it takes to feel better, sometimes not.
She lets me cry and supplies tissues.
She gives her opinion but never judges me. She freely gives suggestions but understands if I don't use them.
I feel safe there. Almost in control.
But if I lose it and meltdown she lets me.
She listens until I've run out of tears and find my smile again.
She's only a phone call away ALWAYS.
She just gets me and understands when I don't make any sense. Like saying my kitchen is overwhelming because there are too many empty spaces and I don't know where to put things (that doesn't even make sense to me!).
I don't tell her enough how awesome she is and how much I appreciate her.
She is my mom!
I LOVE YOU MOM!
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Dare I say I'm Disappointed?
Staying up until the wee hours of this morning preparing the kitchen for the debut of our fabulous new cabinets was, well, exhausting.
I expected nothing less than to come home from work today and have cabinets that were at least equal to unicorns eating cupcakes and pooping rainbows. There was no hallelujah chorus. No beams of brilliant lights from the heavens. No singing choir of angels. Just plain 'ol cupboards. I don't know what I expected but whatever it was it didn't happen. Spoiled much? Maybe because there are no lights. There is no back splash and no range hood so maybe my anticipation was premature.
But they do have pretty knobs and pulls. Like jewelry for cabinets.
See:
I expected nothing less than to come home from work today and have cabinets that were at least equal to unicorns eating cupcakes and pooping rainbows. There was no hallelujah chorus. No beams of brilliant lights from the heavens. No singing choir of angels. Just plain 'ol cupboards. I don't know what I expected but whatever it was it didn't happen. Spoiled much? Maybe because there are no lights. There is no back splash and no range hood so maybe my anticipation was premature.
But they do have pretty knobs and pulls. Like jewelry for cabinets.
See:
 |
| BLING! |
 |
| Ohhhhhh! Ahhhhhh! |
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Dust to Dust
I am completely, totally and seriously OVER all the drywall dust in my house.
I don't usually mind dust, as long as it coats everything evenly. Mostly I don't even notice it's there until someone (cough*Nick*cough) runs their finger through it, disturbing the even-ness (that is totally a word). Even then I just grab the swiffer duster (LOVE THOSE) and wand it over the dust. It sticks to it like a magnet and VOILA no dust.
But since the kitchen renovation from hell (and I say that with total love cause it is gonna look awesome someday) I am living, sleeping and breathing dust. We're probably even eating some cause my husband thinks it's okay to cook in a kitchen that is dismantled. Whatever!
In his infinite wisdom he suggested that I might sand the mortar left behind by the tile that we carefully removed. I wanted to just bang on it with a hammer like they do on TV but he wanted as few chunks taken out of the drywall as possible. Get this, to cut down on the sanding! Yeah, right!
I tried to get Nick to do it. He did. For about 20 seconds. The electric sander is heavy and his arms hurt. Wimp!
Next it was my turn to try. I figured I could make the walls as smooth as silk in short order. I know all about the safety equipment so I put on my snorkel goggles because my sweeties big head stretched out the safety goggles that we bought. I also didn't want to inhale anymore dust that I already have so I borrowed a surgical mask from work (you know the kind that prevents the spread of swine and bird flu). It does however NOT prevent the inhalation of drywall dust. And it also didn't fit with my swim goggles. I decided to forgo the mask. It was working until I realized that I was breathing through my nose into the goggles and I couldn't see because my breath fogged them all up. If I had been able to see, I would have also noticed that I sanded the sand paper right off the electric sander and was pretty much just vibrating a piece of equipment against the wall and was removing NOTHING!
All I have to show for my effort is dry cuticles and broken finger nails. I didn't even create any dust. I give up!
I don't usually mind dust, as long as it coats everything evenly. Mostly I don't even notice it's there until someone (cough*Nick*cough) runs their finger through it, disturbing the even-ness (that is totally a word). Even then I just grab the swiffer duster (LOVE THOSE) and wand it over the dust. It sticks to it like a magnet and VOILA no dust.
But since the kitchen renovation from hell (and I say that with total love cause it is gonna look awesome someday) I am living, sleeping and breathing dust. We're probably even eating some cause my husband thinks it's okay to cook in a kitchen that is dismantled. Whatever!
In his infinite wisdom he suggested that I might sand the mortar left behind by the tile that we carefully removed. I wanted to just bang on it with a hammer like they do on TV but he wanted as few chunks taken out of the drywall as possible. Get this, to cut down on the sanding! Yeah, right!
I tried to get Nick to do it. He did. For about 20 seconds. The electric sander is heavy and his arms hurt. Wimp!
Next it was my turn to try. I figured I could make the walls as smooth as silk in short order. I know all about the safety equipment so I put on my snorkel goggles because my sweeties big head stretched out the safety goggles that we bought. I also didn't want to inhale anymore dust that I already have so I borrowed a surgical mask from work (you know the kind that prevents the spread of swine and bird flu). It does however NOT prevent the inhalation of drywall dust. And it also didn't fit with my swim goggles. I decided to forgo the mask. It was working until I realized that I was breathing through my nose into the goggles and I couldn't see because my breath fogged them all up. If I had been able to see, I would have also noticed that I sanded the sand paper right off the electric sander and was pretty much just vibrating a piece of equipment against the wall and was removing NOTHING!
All I have to show for my effort is dry cuticles and broken finger nails. I didn't even create any dust. I give up!
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
It Is What It Is
I got my hair cut today. I sat patiently in the salon waiting for it to be my turn. In that same small space there was a little boy who resembled a 2 or 3 year old ball of pure electricity. He fidgeted and touched EVERYTHING. There was not one second that he stopped moving. Next to him was a mother with her little girl who was about 4 or so. She sat there so quietly watching the entergetic little boy. She sat next to her mom just waiting for her turn to have a beauticians undivided attention. Yeah, some on their behaviors are learned but some just have to be a boy being a boy and a girl being a girl.
Some things just are.
I will never be a perfect parent, wife, friend, sister or daughter. I will have moments that are pretty good though. I'll most likely always be my own worse critic. I might say things that I regret only moments later but I hope to never have any regret that I didn't say something when it needed to be said. Although I never plan to hurt anyone on purpose, feelings will be hurt and things taken out of context or misinterpreted . I can't help those things. I probably will always struggle with some form of the blues. It runs in my family. I'll likely continue to want things I can't have and not fully appreciate what I do have.
Some things just are. It is what it is.
Some things just are.
I will never be a perfect parent, wife, friend, sister or daughter. I will have moments that are pretty good though. I'll most likely always be my own worse critic. I might say things that I regret only moments later but I hope to never have any regret that I didn't say something when it needed to be said. Although I never plan to hurt anyone on purpose, feelings will be hurt and things taken out of context or misinterpreted . I can't help those things. I probably will always struggle with some form of the blues. It runs in my family. I'll likely continue to want things I can't have and not fully appreciate what I do have.
Some things just are. It is what it is.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Family
I always thought of family as a bunch of people that you're born related to. Over the course of my 40-ish years I now know that there are people that are loved as much as family that don't necessarily share any genetic link. I have 3 daughters that share my husbands genes and that I didn't give birth to but that I love with all my heart. I have step-parents that own pieces of my heart. I'm not sure where the term "step" parents or "step" sibling came from. There really is no "step" involved in the love that we share. I have friends who were there when I needed them most and they are as important as my family.
On the flip side, I have family that I know very little about. In a sad twist, divorce causes distance between people. Children are left with emptiness on entire sides of their family tree. Regretfully, I caused this very thing to happen to my own children. They have relatives that they may never know and for that I wish I could turn back the clock and keep those distances from happening. I resemble my dads family and have relatives that share my bone structures and eye color but who I don't know very well. Still, the genes that we share make it easy to love them as if we were never separated. My boys have cousins and aunts and uncles that I wish they knew but hindsight is 20/20 and they will need to decide if they want any of these relationships to bloom.
In these days of social media maybe fewer of these situations will occur. Maybe distances won't matter and relationships will naturally occur. I'm not sure that it's true that chance makes us family but choice makes us friends. I think there is a little chance and choice in all relationships.
On the flip side, I have family that I know very little about. In a sad twist, divorce causes distance between people. Children are left with emptiness on entire sides of their family tree. Regretfully, I caused this very thing to happen to my own children. They have relatives that they may never know and for that I wish I could turn back the clock and keep those distances from happening. I resemble my dads family and have relatives that share my bone structures and eye color but who I don't know very well. Still, the genes that we share make it easy to love them as if we were never separated. My boys have cousins and aunts and uncles that I wish they knew but hindsight is 20/20 and they will need to decide if they want any of these relationships to bloom.
In these days of social media maybe fewer of these situations will occur. Maybe distances won't matter and relationships will naturally occur. I'm not sure that it's true that chance makes us family but choice makes us friends. I think there is a little chance and choice in all relationships.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Consistently Inconsistent
Punishing a child is hard! It seems like taking away something they enjoy doing would work to get the point across that whatever they did is unacceptable. Almost like a "time out" from whatever they enjoy. But what is an appropriate time to withhold the activity? And what happens when you run out of things to take away?
I'm good at saying "no computer" then kinda forgetting about it for a while. Suddenly I think Nick would like this game. "Hey Nick, wanna play The Price is Right on the computer?" Sure he does! And because mom asked him obviously the punishment is over. But its not and I feel like I suck at parenting. Maybe he takes advantage a little too because the next day, there he is on the computer.
I take his cell phone away but then remind him to take his phone with him to his fathers (mostly so I don't have to talk to Randy when I call for Nick). That doesn't even make sense to me! How is it ever going to make sense to him?
Like this morning, I wanted to tell him he could watch TV until his dad got out of bed. But last night I told him no TV. I was thinking forever but that's not realistic. I found him drawing in his room instead. He was probably drawing pictures of me with flaming swords being shoved under my eye lids! I didn't ask.
When my kids were little punishment was easy. SIT ON THIS CHAIR FOR AS MANY MINUTES AS THE YEARS YOU ARE OLD! Three years, 3 minutes. Usually it worked but it's not that easy any more. 13 minutes of no TV is not gonna teach anybody anything. Accept maybe that you don't miss much of the show because there are at least 13 minutes of commercials on every show.
I guess I'll wait for that magic age when I can look back and say I must have done it right sometimes.
When is that by the way?
I'm good at saying "no computer" then kinda forgetting about it for a while. Suddenly I think Nick would like this game. "Hey Nick, wanna play The Price is Right on the computer?" Sure he does! And because mom asked him obviously the punishment is over. But its not and I feel like I suck at parenting. Maybe he takes advantage a little too because the next day, there he is on the computer.
I take his cell phone away but then remind him to take his phone with him to his fathers (mostly so I don't have to talk to Randy when I call for Nick). That doesn't even make sense to me! How is it ever going to make sense to him?
Like this morning, I wanted to tell him he could watch TV until his dad got out of bed. But last night I told him no TV. I was thinking forever but that's not realistic. I found him drawing in his room instead. He was probably drawing pictures of me with flaming swords being shoved under my eye lids! I didn't ask.
When my kids were little punishment was easy. SIT ON THIS CHAIR FOR AS MANY MINUTES AS THE YEARS YOU ARE OLD! Three years, 3 minutes. Usually it worked but it's not that easy any more. 13 minutes of no TV is not gonna teach anybody anything. Accept maybe that you don't miss much of the show because there are at least 13 minutes of commercials on every show.
I guess I'll wait for that magic age when I can look back and say I must have done it right sometimes.
When is that by the way?
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Suspended
I never got suspended from school. I had a couple of detentions but learned from them and kept my nose clean in school. Mostly because I was afraid of my parents. Afraid that I would disappoint them. I never wanted to hand my mom a paper from school that said I had misbehaved or hurt someone. The look of disappointment from her would have been a hundred times more of a punishment than the penalty from the school.
Today my youngest got suspended for 3 days. He pushed someone down a couple of steps because the kid called him a name. He was afraid to tell me and hand me the notice from the school but not because I would be disappointed. And I am! But because knew something else would be taken away from him as a penalty. I did restrict him from the TV. I'm not sure how long that will be withheld just yet, but long enough to make a point anyway. I've already taken away his video games and computer and phone privledges for his unacceptable grades.
I've come to a point where I don't have anything else to take away. It just seems to go on and on. Soon it will become the norm for him to have nothing to do and he won't recognize these as punishments. Do I make him read? I don't want reading to be a punishment. I want him to enjoy it. I really feel like I'm up against a wall and he's only 13. We have many years of school left and there is no where to go but up, I'm just not sure how to get us there.
Today my youngest got suspended for 3 days. He pushed someone down a couple of steps because the kid called him a name. He was afraid to tell me and hand me the notice from the school but not because I would be disappointed. And I am! But because knew something else would be taken away from him as a penalty. I did restrict him from the TV. I'm not sure how long that will be withheld just yet, but long enough to make a point anyway. I've already taken away his video games and computer and phone privledges for his unacceptable grades.
I've come to a point where I don't have anything else to take away. It just seems to go on and on. Soon it will become the norm for him to have nothing to do and he won't recognize these as punishments. Do I make him read? I don't want reading to be a punishment. I want him to enjoy it. I really feel like I'm up against a wall and he's only 13. We have many years of school left and there is no where to go but up, I'm just not sure how to get us there.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
I Couldn't Make This Stuff Up
I *may* have witnessed the following scenerio today and I *might* have come thisclose to peeing my pants at work. Don't judge! You would have peed too.
We had a plus size lady (read: holy stretched polyester pants) come to our facility today. She was a little out of breath from waddling from the parking lot to the lobby. We have wheelchairs just inside the door so she grabbed one to hold herself upright (kinda like a walker). Also she was not there for any leg and or breathing related problems cause that would just be sad not funny.
It was crystal clear that there was no way she could walk to the back of the building where the reason for her visit awaited. Out of necessity, she was asked if she would like to ride in the wheelchair so we wouldn't have to call 911 by the time she was nearly exhausted and completely unable to breathe from walking down 2 hall ways.
Riding IN the wheelchair is an understatement. As she sat down her extra poundage settled into every crevice and empty space of the wheelchair frame. Have you ever seen the foam that they sell at home improvement stores that EXPANDS when you squirt in in a hole? Yeah, picture that!
Pushing her down the hall was like pushing a 500 pound boulder up a mountain with a drinking straw. At the end of the hall she said she thought something smelled like it was burning. IT WAS! Her thighs were rubbing the wheels! Melting polyester is not a pleasant scent. How could she not feel her legs warming up from the friction?!
Getting her out of the wheelchair was a whole nother sight. It took 3 people to unwedge her from her chariot as one person held on to the chair trying desperately not to giggle and allow pee to run down her leg. That person *probably* wasn't me.
She survived but we did not offer a wheelchair for her departure.
We had a plus size lady (read: holy stretched polyester pants) come to our facility today. She was a little out of breath from waddling from the parking lot to the lobby. We have wheelchairs just inside the door so she grabbed one to hold herself upright (kinda like a walker). Also she was not there for any leg and or breathing related problems cause that would just be sad not funny.
It was crystal clear that there was no way she could walk to the back of the building where the reason for her visit awaited. Out of necessity, she was asked if she would like to ride in the wheelchair so we wouldn't have to call 911 by the time she was nearly exhausted and completely unable to breathe from walking down 2 hall ways.
Riding IN the wheelchair is an understatement. As she sat down her extra poundage settled into every crevice and empty space of the wheelchair frame. Have you ever seen the foam that they sell at home improvement stores that EXPANDS when you squirt in in a hole? Yeah, picture that!
Pushing her down the hall was like pushing a 500 pound boulder up a mountain with a drinking straw. At the end of the hall she said she thought something smelled like it was burning. IT WAS! Her thighs were rubbing the wheels! Melting polyester is not a pleasant scent. How could she not feel her legs warming up from the friction?!
Getting her out of the wheelchair was a whole nother sight. It took 3 people to unwedge her from her chariot as one person held on to the chair trying desperately not to giggle and allow pee to run down her leg. That person *probably* wasn't me.
She survived but we did not offer a wheelchair for her departure.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Everyone on HGTV is a BIG FAT LIAR
Once upon a time I had a kitchen in my house. It wasn't perfect but it WAS functional. Now? Ummm, NO!
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| Note: Not normally this messy. Really! |
Some time in the last month I lost my mind. I allowed my husband who is soooo NOT Bob Villa to remove walls. You know those things that construction people build that hold the house up? I'm sure when I kill him sometime during this renovation my attorney will decide that the insanity defense is air tight because who in there right mind allow this:
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| Goggles! Safety first when your wife is about to kill you with a ladder. |
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| See that hole? It goes to the roof! |
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| Holy crap! |
He's making stromboli on my pool table as I type this. Nick had to ask if the flour the dough was on was sawdust. I'm afraid, VERY afraid!
Friday, September 24, 2010
I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues
Elton John was on to something when he wrote the lyrics-
Don't wish it away
Don't look at it like it's forever
Between you and me I could honestly say
That things can only get better.
I have the blues or what I hope is just the blues.
I can't shake them. Everything seems out of my control.
Maybe it's a 5 day vacation coming to end? Except I have Saturday and Sunday off too.
Or family going back home after having an awesome visit.
It could be knowing that in a few weeks we will have 3 kids living at home in a house that is barely big enough for 2 kids.
I could pinpoint it to having my mom and sister within a half hour drive of our house but not seeing them nearly enough. But that's not it either.
Impending home renovations with not nearly enough time to complete them. Anticipation of a giant mess. I can't say that's why I feel this way.
Having my job move from everything that is familiar. But that's still a month off too.
Nick's performance at school. Grades that need to be better but fearing that he's doing the best he can.
I want to run but I'm not sure where I'd be running to. I can't escape depression. I know this. I guess that's what I'm most afraid of. What if this is depression and not just the blues? I just want it to go away. I want to laugh easily and not just spend my time waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Don't wish it away
Don't look at it like it's forever
Between you and me I could honestly say
That things can only get better.
I have the blues or what I hope is just the blues.
I can't shake them. Everything seems out of my control.
Maybe it's a 5 day vacation coming to end? Except I have Saturday and Sunday off too.
Or family going back home after having an awesome visit.
It could be knowing that in a few weeks we will have 3 kids living at home in a house that is barely big enough for 2 kids.
I could pinpoint it to having my mom and sister within a half hour drive of our house but not seeing them nearly enough. But that's not it either.
Impending home renovations with not nearly enough time to complete them. Anticipation of a giant mess. I can't say that's why I feel this way.
Having my job move from everything that is familiar. But that's still a month off too.
Nick's performance at school. Grades that need to be better but fearing that he's doing the best he can.
I want to run but I'm not sure where I'd be running to. I can't escape depression. I know this. I guess that's what I'm most afraid of. What if this is depression and not just the blues? I just want it to go away. I want to laugh easily and not just spend my time waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Baths and Binkies
I can't get enough of him. From his kicks in the bath water sending a spray all over me and the bathroom to the sweet sucking sounds of his tiny lips around his blue pacifier.
I laid him on the bear shaped, yellow sponge in the bathtub with barely enough water to cover his tiny bottom. With the washcloth I gently squeeze warm water on his belly while he kicks his feet splashing water everywhere. He giggles as I wash the formula catching creases of his neck and wipe the water from his face that his toes delivered just seconds before. I think he could lie there throwing water around with his kicks for quite a long time. He doesn't even mind when the water cools. He just keeps splishing and splashing like the cutest duckling ever. After carefully rinsing the soap from all his crevices and creases I wrap him in a thick towel and smell his downy soft hair. He's not in a hurry to get dressed, I think he likes being naked. But I'm quick to put on a clean diaper because little guys will send a stream of pee several times their body length without any warning. I learned that the hard way!
He likes to be swaddled. Cuddled in a cocoon of soft blankets. He makes the sweetest little noises like he's singing himself to sleep. Even after he falls asleep with shallow milk scented breaths I hesitate to take him off my chest and lay him down to sleep peacefully by himself. His closed eyes dart around behind his itty-bitty lash lined lids. I can only imagine what he's dreaming of. Sometimes he takes the shortest of catnaps and wakes up smiling and watching his hands as he tries to put them in him mouth. His pacifier cast aside as it's not nearly as amusing as his ten little fingers and apparently doesn't taste as good either. When I talk to him he watches me like he's known me forever. His smiles make me feel like the luckiest gramma ever.
In a couple of days his mom and dad will pack up he and his brother and take them 1200 miles back home. I'll hold on to the days and evenings that we spent drenching my bathroom. And I may not wash my favorite blanket for a while, until the smell of him fades. The next time I see him he will be several months older and will have forgotten our short week together but I won't forget those memories anytime soon.
I laid him on the bear shaped, yellow sponge in the bathtub with barely enough water to cover his tiny bottom. With the washcloth I gently squeeze warm water on his belly while he kicks his feet splashing water everywhere. He giggles as I wash the formula catching creases of his neck and wipe the water from his face that his toes delivered just seconds before. I think he could lie there throwing water around with his kicks for quite a long time. He doesn't even mind when the water cools. He just keeps splishing and splashing like the cutest duckling ever. After carefully rinsing the soap from all his crevices and creases I wrap him in a thick towel and smell his downy soft hair. He's not in a hurry to get dressed, I think he likes being naked. But I'm quick to put on a clean diaper because little guys will send a stream of pee several times their body length without any warning. I learned that the hard way!
He likes to be swaddled. Cuddled in a cocoon of soft blankets. He makes the sweetest little noises like he's singing himself to sleep. Even after he falls asleep with shallow milk scented breaths I hesitate to take him off my chest and lay him down to sleep peacefully by himself. His closed eyes dart around behind his itty-bitty lash lined lids. I can only imagine what he's dreaming of. Sometimes he takes the shortest of catnaps and wakes up smiling and watching his hands as he tries to put them in him mouth. His pacifier cast aside as it's not nearly as amusing as his ten little fingers and apparently doesn't taste as good either. When I talk to him he watches me like he's known me forever. His smiles make me feel like the luckiest gramma ever.
In a couple of days his mom and dad will pack up he and his brother and take them 1200 miles back home. I'll hold on to the days and evenings that we spent drenching my bathroom. And I may not wash my favorite blanket for a while, until the smell of him fades. The next time I see him he will be several months older and will have forgotten our short week together but I won't forget those memories anytime soon.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Are we there yet?
Vacations where we pack suitcases and actually travel somewhere accomplish more that just reaching a vacation destination. Things like showering daily and brushing my teeth. I haven't figured out why that is but I can say its a real phenomenon. Maybe since I'm in my own home my brain thinks it's not so important for me to be clean. Ummm, brain, IT IS!
Its hard to get these things done when I'm on vacation at home. I took a week off to spend with family from out of state. We're having a great time except I can't seem to motivate myself to get anythings else done besides cuddling and playing with the littles. I have a strict schedule on the mornings that I have to get ready for work. I know exactly how much time each step takes until I can walk out the door. This time off has derailed any normal schedule I might have had.
I have managed to get dressed everyday (GO ME) but not so much before noon. I've taken a couple showers but bedhead is pretty much the style of week. Brushing my teeth has fallen waaaay down on the to-do-list. I probably should go do that since it didn't happen yesterday. Gross! And for the most part my house looks like a disaster zone. Okay so that part is normal but usually I make at least a half-hearted attempt at picking stuff up off the floor. The last few days I've just been kicking it out of my way.
I love vacations!
Its hard to get these things done when I'm on vacation at home. I took a week off to spend with family from out of state. We're having a great time except I can't seem to motivate myself to get anythings else done besides cuddling and playing with the littles. I have a strict schedule on the mornings that I have to get ready for work. I know exactly how much time each step takes until I can walk out the door. This time off has derailed any normal schedule I might have had.
I have managed to get dressed everyday (GO ME) but not so much before noon. I've taken a couple showers but bedhead is pretty much the style of week. Brushing my teeth has fallen waaaay down on the to-do-list. I probably should go do that since it didn't happen yesterday. Gross! And for the most part my house looks like a disaster zone. Okay so that part is normal but usually I make at least a half-hearted attempt at picking stuff up off the floor. The last few days I've just been kicking it out of my way.
I love vacations!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
300 Pound Gorilla
Webster defines punishment as suffering, pain, or loss that serves as retribution.
I'm not sure how to deal with a punishment that's being served for something that isn't my fault. I've been punished for things that I'm sorry for. And I live with those things because even though I'm sorry it's not always enough. But being penalized for a decision that someone else made is breaking my heart. The wrong was done by someone else with no penalty. How is that fair? Simply glossed over like it never happened. The ultimatum was given to lose everything or accept the unacceptable. I never give enough, I'm not willing to forgive. Quite honestly I'm tired of trying. A physical wound can be bandaged and waited on to heal. The heart doesn't work like that. All the bandaging and medicine in the world won't make it hurt any less when in one breath the words "I love you" are thrown into the wind but in the next second it's made more than clear that that love really isn't enough. Crumbs are dropped, carrots dangled. For what? To entice or to remind that I can hurt you more? I suppose the decision was made for me and I'll learn to live with it. I've cried and swallowed hurtful words because the effort won't make it better. I've let go of wishes for occasions that will never be. Disintegrated before it ever happened. I can't keep wearing my heart on my sleeve while my arm feels like its being forcefully removed. Maybe I'll continue to live with the what ifs and what could have been or maybe it'll get easier. I really don't know.
I hurt. I'm angry and that anger is destroying a love that barely had time to blossom. For that I am sorry! It's wrong and I know it but I'm defenseless to keep it from happening. One relationship is nurtured while several others decay. I can't force it and I must accept it. I'm giving up so much. There can't be any other outcome. I'll smile and remember that what never was won't be missed. I hope!
That 300 pound gorilla in the corner? Just pretend it's not there. Nevermind that it's taking up all the space in the room and making it hard to breathe. Ignore it and it will disappear. If only......
I'm not sure how to deal with a punishment that's being served for something that isn't my fault. I've been punished for things that I'm sorry for. And I live with those things because even though I'm sorry it's not always enough. But being penalized for a decision that someone else made is breaking my heart. The wrong was done by someone else with no penalty. How is that fair? Simply glossed over like it never happened. The ultimatum was given to lose everything or accept the unacceptable. I never give enough, I'm not willing to forgive. Quite honestly I'm tired of trying. A physical wound can be bandaged and waited on to heal. The heart doesn't work like that. All the bandaging and medicine in the world won't make it hurt any less when in one breath the words "I love you" are thrown into the wind but in the next second it's made more than clear that that love really isn't enough. Crumbs are dropped, carrots dangled. For what? To entice or to remind that I can hurt you more? I suppose the decision was made for me and I'll learn to live with it. I've cried and swallowed hurtful words because the effort won't make it better. I've let go of wishes for occasions that will never be. Disintegrated before it ever happened. I can't keep wearing my heart on my sleeve while my arm feels like its being forcefully removed. Maybe I'll continue to live with the what ifs and what could have been or maybe it'll get easier. I really don't know.
I hurt. I'm angry and that anger is destroying a love that barely had time to blossom. For that I am sorry! It's wrong and I know it but I'm defenseless to keep it from happening. One relationship is nurtured while several others decay. I can't force it and I must accept it. I'm giving up so much. There can't be any other outcome. I'll smile and remember that what never was won't be missed. I hope!
That 300 pound gorilla in the corner? Just pretend it's not there. Nevermind that it's taking up all the space in the room and making it hard to breathe. Ignore it and it will disappear. If only......
Monday, September 20, 2010
Love Bugs
We have love bugs here. Sounds sweet, huh? It's sooo not!
Floridians call it love bug season in late Spring and early Fall. Love Bugs are flies that breed while flying through the air. They coat the front of our cars and if not washed off promply will take off the paint! The are like flying paint remover with their butts stuck together.
Pure evil!
God forbid you might be talking while breathing and walking through a swarm (like a giant black hovering cloud) because they will get sucked into your lungs and you can die. Okay, you won't really die (probably) but you can choke A LOT.
I read an article once that said their sole purpose is to breed. Kinda like the Duggars but with wings. I'll be glad when love bug season is over because I like to breath when I walk and I hate to wash my car.
Floridians call it love bug season in late Spring and early Fall. Love Bugs are flies that breed while flying through the air. They coat the front of our cars and if not washed off promply will take off the paint! The are like flying paint remover with their butts stuck together.
See?
Pure evil!
God forbid you might be talking while breathing and walking through a swarm (like a giant black hovering cloud) because they will get sucked into your lungs and you can die. Okay, you won't really die (probably) but you can choke A LOT.
I read an article once that said their sole purpose is to breed. Kinda like the Duggars but with wings. I'll be glad when love bug season is over because I like to breath when I walk and I hate to wash my car.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Wild Kingdom
Florida is kind of an awesome place to live minus the endless 95 degree summer days and ever escalating electric bills.
I can sit out on my porch and watch tiny lizards scurry over the screen. Occasionally when a couple of them are feeling frisky I unintentionally witness lizard sex. I usually walk over and flick them off the screen because they should be doing that under a leaf somewhere. We have birds that walk ever so slooooowly across the street causing traffic to stop. Who wants to hit a 3 foot tall bird? That would make an awful mess. An occasional alligator can be seen sunning itself on the banks of a quiet lake. For the most part if you don't bother them they won't bother you. Unless an idiot neighbor feeds them and they think you are their next meal. I've seen wild turkeys and snakes every now and then. But they are always OUTSIDE.
Why then do critters keep deciding that INSIDE our house is the place to be? This morning I pulled back the shower curtain to start the water and a green tree frog about the size of a golf ball plopped himself right next to the drain. I don't know where he came from but I'm fairly sure if he came in through the door I would have seen it. That's the second frog in a month that is on the wrong side of the walls of my house. I'm envisioning an orphanage of baby amphibians under my furniture. I chased him around the tub with a plastic pitcher demanding that he didn't touch me. Sticky frog feet are disgusting! I also didn't want to smash him against the side of the tub. If I would have cut off one of his legs or something I would have had to call in sick to work. Anyhoo, because I'm mostly smarter than a frog it didn't take me long to catch him between the pitcher and an empty coolwhip (yum!) bowl lid. I relocated him to our flower bed outside. I sure hope his brothers and sisters find their way outside too. Next time without my help!
I can sit out on my porch and watch tiny lizards scurry over the screen. Occasionally when a couple of them are feeling frisky I unintentionally witness lizard sex. I usually walk over and flick them off the screen because they should be doing that under a leaf somewhere. We have birds that walk ever so slooooowly across the street causing traffic to stop. Who wants to hit a 3 foot tall bird? That would make an awful mess. An occasional alligator can be seen sunning itself on the banks of a quiet lake. For the most part if you don't bother them they won't bother you. Unless an idiot neighbor feeds them and they think you are their next meal. I've seen wild turkeys and snakes every now and then. But they are always OUTSIDE.
Why then do critters keep deciding that INSIDE our house is the place to be? This morning I pulled back the shower curtain to start the water and a green tree frog about the size of a golf ball plopped himself right next to the drain. I don't know where he came from but I'm fairly sure if he came in through the door I would have seen it. That's the second frog in a month that is on the wrong side of the walls of my house. I'm envisioning an orphanage of baby amphibians under my furniture. I chased him around the tub with a plastic pitcher demanding that he didn't touch me. Sticky frog feet are disgusting! I also didn't want to smash him against the side of the tub. If I would have cut off one of his legs or something I would have had to call in sick to work. Anyhoo, because I'm mostly smarter than a frog it didn't take me long to catch him between the pitcher and an empty coolwhip (yum!) bowl lid. I relocated him to our flower bed outside. I sure hope his brothers and sisters find their way outside too. Next time without my help!
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Nap, Interrupted
I'm a huge fan of the nap! Most people use their lunch time to, well, eat. Not me, I'd rather take a power nap in my car with the radio and air-conditioning on. I'm not talking about a light snooze. I mean a full on, snoring, drool fest! I tilt the seat back and nod off almost immediately. I can sleep in my car almost better than I can sleep anywhere. I have a tiny fear of waking up startled and knocking the car into drive or reverse and bouncing around like a ping pong ball until I pulled myself together. But I'm pretty sure I wouldn't get fired unless I hit the building so I don't park near the building. See, strategy! I have the most awesome internal alarm clock. I don't know why but I always wake up about 5 minutes before I have to be back at my desk. Just long enough to wipe the string of drool off my chin and shake off my sleepy look.
Today though, I knew my sweetie was planning on switching out his car for mine in my work parking lot so he could pick up our new bathroom vanity from the Depot of Homes. When I left for lunch he hadn't picked it up yet so I made myself comfy and planned to sleep happily for the next 45 minutes. Apparently my brain was on full alert because even though I was cozy in my reclined seat with my eyes closed I couldn't go to sleep. I just knew he would tap on the window and scare me to death which would probably make me wake up grumpy so I just sat there. THE. WHOLE. DAMN. 45 MINUTES. With no power nap to recharge my batteries I was pretty nonproductive the rest of the afternoon. My coworkers can than my beloved for that!
Today though, I knew my sweetie was planning on switching out his car for mine in my work parking lot so he could pick up our new bathroom vanity from the Depot of Homes. When I left for lunch he hadn't picked it up yet so I made myself comfy and planned to sleep happily for the next 45 minutes. Apparently my brain was on full alert because even though I was cozy in my reclined seat with my eyes closed I couldn't go to sleep. I just knew he would tap on the window and scare me to death which would probably make me wake up grumpy so I just sat there. THE. WHOLE. DAMN. 45 MINUTES. With no power nap to recharge my batteries I was pretty nonproductive the rest of the afternoon. My coworkers can than my beloved for that!
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Tattoo
For about .5 seconds in high school I decided that I wanted a tattoo. A pretty anklet of ivy leaves. Until I came to my senses and remembered that tattoos are ink shoved into the skin with NEEDLES! Those needles would also be very close to my BONES because my ankles were kinda skinny. I'm not a fan of needles and would probably DIE if I was diagnosed as diabetic and had to give myself insulin shots. Paper cuts make me queasy and the thought of tiny little needles hitting my skin over and over threatened to bring up all the food I'd eaten since I was, oh...about 2 years old. I gave up on the ankle greenery.
Then somewhere in my mid-twenties I considered a cute Tinkerbell tattoo maybe on my shoulder. Then a little scene played in my head that went something like this:
"Gramma what is that wrinkly bird thing on your shoulder?"
And for the life of me I couldn't even think of one thing to say to convince the future grandchild that the thing on my shoulder wasn't a shriveled up dead bird. Or why it was ever a good idea to permanently put a cartoon character on my skin. Also, I never questioned why a grandchild would be looking at my naked shoulder, but whatever.
I've seen more episodes of LA INK than any 40-something year old person should admit to. Nobody on that show ever throws up or cries. Maybe a tiny anklet of some sort would be cute. I'll definitely stay away from anything that is unidentifiable at any stage of my life or anything that looks like a dried up, dead bug or other critter.
Since my ankles are fatter it shouldn't hurt so much, right?
If I come up with something I'll let you know.
Then somewhere in my mid-twenties I considered a cute Tinkerbell tattoo maybe on my shoulder. Then a little scene played in my head that went something like this:
"Gramma what is that wrinkly bird thing on your shoulder?"
And for the life of me I couldn't even think of one thing to say to convince the future grandchild that the thing on my shoulder wasn't a shriveled up dead bird. Or why it was ever a good idea to permanently put a cartoon character on my skin. Also, I never questioned why a grandchild would be looking at my naked shoulder, but whatever.
I've seen more episodes of LA INK than any 40-something year old person should admit to. Nobody on that show ever throws up or cries. Maybe a tiny anklet of some sort would be cute. I'll definitely stay away from anything that is unidentifiable at any stage of my life or anything that looks like a dried up, dead bug or other critter.
Since my ankles are fatter it shouldn't hurt so much, right?
If I come up with something I'll let you know.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Not my choice
I really never gave much thought to my boys falling in love and getting married or *shudder* having children. But now that one of them is old enough to do all of those things I'm freaking out a little lot. You never know which girl will be the one. Which girlfriend will become more than just a girlfriend. Maybe one that he will want to spend the rest of his life with. Yes, I know he's much too young to even consider anything that could become his future. But I wasn't much older than him when I got married and I know that it's a possibility.
Until the last year or so he had a lot of friends that were girls but not too many girlfriends. He had dates to school dances and girls that hung out with him and his group of friends. But about 5 months ago he met someone who fit into our family so perfectly that I was hoping it would be a long (ish) term relationship. Without too many details that may embarrass her, she is bright with a very promising future and she is pretty. Maybe I liked her more that he did. I don't know. I was sad when he decided they weren't going to date anymore. She's the kind of young woman that I want him to be with. The kind that will make him happy.
In the last couple of days he has introduced me to a girl that he works with. I'm not sure they're dating but I do know there is something there. I'm kinda ashamed to admit that I can't make myself like her. I'm sure she's nice enough but she's not the kind of girl that I can see him spending any length of time with. I've told myself several times over the last few days that it's not my decision to make. That she may be the one that he falls in love with. I feel horrible that I hope she's not. What kind of mother is more worried about whether she likes her sons girlfriend than how much he cares for her? Sadly, I am. And I hate that I feel that way!
Until the last year or so he had a lot of friends that were girls but not too many girlfriends. He had dates to school dances and girls that hung out with him and his group of friends. But about 5 months ago he met someone who fit into our family so perfectly that I was hoping it would be a long (ish) term relationship. Without too many details that may embarrass her, she is bright with a very promising future and she is pretty. Maybe I liked her more that he did. I don't know. I was sad when he decided they weren't going to date anymore. She's the kind of young woman that I want him to be with. The kind that will make him happy.
In the last couple of days he has introduced me to a girl that he works with. I'm not sure they're dating but I do know there is something there. I'm kinda ashamed to admit that I can't make myself like her. I'm sure she's nice enough but she's not the kind of girl that I can see him spending any length of time with. I've told myself several times over the last few days that it's not my decision to make. That she may be the one that he falls in love with. I feel horrible that I hope she's not. What kind of mother is more worried about whether she likes her sons girlfriend than how much he cares for her? Sadly, I am. And I hate that I feel that way!
Monday, September 13, 2010
Shoes
I had this really great idea this weekend as a surfed the web. Okay, so it wasn't my idea but it was a really good idea that I borrowed from another blog I found. First I found a real company that makes flip flops with interchangeable straps. But OMG they are 35.00 for the shoe part and 12 dollars a piece for the interchangeable straps. Very cute but so very expensive. Then I found a blog with a DIY tutorial on making your own pair with velcro and ribbon. Both of which I happen to have boatloads of because I have this crazy habit of volunteering for craft fairs and such about 24 hours before all the crafts should be done. I generally go way overboard and buy insane amounts of supplies to make 5 or 6 of whatever craft I happened to have found on the internet in the hours before my great idea.
I went to Walmart and found a plain pair of black flip flops on clearance for 5.00 because I was reluctant to ruined any of the 25 pairs of flip flops that I already have in my closet. Five dollars would have been a really good deal if I hadn't found $45.00 worth of other crap that Idefinitely probably maybe didn't need. The instructions for the shoes said hot glue wasn't a good idea probably because it would melt the rubber. I was pretty prepared to lose some fingerprints as I always do with hot glue so I wasn't very disappointed that it was discouraged. Instead I bought industrial strength epoxy. Which for your information also removes fingerprints and several layers of skin if you pull it off the item your affixing velcro to. Oh, and the smell? I think it killed more brain cells that I could safely part with. After inhaling the fumes for about a half an hour I glanced at the the packaging which strongly suggested the glue only be used in a well ventilated area. I'm guessing, based on the headache that is slamming my brain behind my eyes that my bedroom isn't well ventilated enough. The glue has to cure for 24 hours so I set them outside. I'm really hoping when I bring them back in the house they don't have 485038 bugs glued to the straps.
I can't wait to make straps to match EVERY outfit I own. Some with bows and some with flowers and some with ruffles. The possibilities are endless! I was thinking that I may be able weed a few pairs of shoes from my closet and replace them with tiny little straps that take up no space at all. Or I could replace them with shoes that aren't flip flops that's a better idea!
I went to Walmart and found a plain pair of black flip flops on clearance for 5.00 because I was reluctant to ruined any of the 25 pairs of flip flops that I already have in my closet. Five dollars would have been a really good deal if I hadn't found $45.00 worth of other crap that I
I can't wait to make straps to match EVERY outfit I own. Some with bows and some with flowers and some with ruffles. The possibilities are endless! I was thinking that I may be able weed a few pairs of shoes from my closet and replace them with tiny little straps that take up no space at all. Or I could replace them with shoes that aren't flip flops that's a better idea!
Friday, September 10, 2010
Making Plans
With a lot of luck and a little planning my sweetie and I hope to spend our retired years in a small, cozy house on wheels. Ideally we'd like to live in an RV year-round. A few years ago we visited the Grand Canyon for the first time. It was breath taking and I was a little sad that it took me 35-ish years to see it.
Some people dream of traveling the world. Seeing different countries and cultures. I just want to see the mountains of Colorado or the green of Central Park. I don't want to see it by way of airports. I want to see the small towns of my own country. Back roads with no destination in mind and no set time to be anywhere. The idea of sharing it with my best friend makes me giddy. He's traveled much more than I have and he is excited to share places that will be new to me. Maybe we'll discover new places together. I want to find the not so tourist-y places that are tucked into out of the way villages and towns. I expect to visit National Parks too but I'm more eager to discover our own places.
It's a lofty dream. It's more than a few years off but we're confident that we can make it happen. I probably should start pinching pennies pretty soon, I understand the fuel tanks on tiny houses with wheels are pretty big and expensive to fill.
Some people dream of traveling the world. Seeing different countries and cultures. I just want to see the mountains of Colorado or the green of Central Park. I don't want to see it by way of airports. I want to see the small towns of my own country. Back roads with no destination in mind and no set time to be anywhere. The idea of sharing it with my best friend makes me giddy. He's traveled much more than I have and he is excited to share places that will be new to me. Maybe we'll discover new places together. I want to find the not so tourist-y places that are tucked into out of the way villages and towns. I expect to visit National Parks too but I'm more eager to discover our own places.
It's a lofty dream. It's more than a few years off but we're confident that we can make it happen. I probably should start pinching pennies pretty soon, I understand the fuel tanks on tiny houses with wheels are pretty big and expensive to fill.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Perspective
There are days that I struggle just to get out of bed. I'm happy there. Snug and warm with my sweetie reaching for me in his sleep. I know that I have responsibilities and people that depend on me to be certain places or do certain things. Maybe it's the shame of letting those people down that forces my feet to touch the floor everyday. I'm smothered by expectations that aren't really in proportions to be all consuming. I can't figure out why I let it happen and I am letting it happen.
Some days I could scream at the top of my lungs and cry until I can't catch my breath. Then there is the guilt! It nags at me, telling me my little complications in life are nothing in comparison to what some people face everyday. It's all relative I suppose. I want to be everything to everyone. I want to scrutinize every paper that the school sends home. I want to call and talk to everyone who is important to me everyday. I want to not be stressed out when curve balls come my way. Most days I don't get any of the things I want.
I tell myself don't sweat the small stuff but then the small stuff gets big, like someone I love going into the hospital.
If I needed perspective, THAT'S IT!
Some days I could scream at the top of my lungs and cry until I can't catch my breath. Then there is the guilt! It nags at me, telling me my little complications in life are nothing in comparison to what some people face everyday. It's all relative I suppose. I want to be everything to everyone. I want to scrutinize every paper that the school sends home. I want to call and talk to everyone who is important to me everyday. I want to not be stressed out when curve balls come my way. Most days I don't get any of the things I want.
I tell myself don't sweat the small stuff but then the small stuff gets big, like someone I love going into the hospital.
If I needed perspective, THAT'S IT!
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