Sanity

Being medicated and drinking half a bottel of tequila helps. Just saying. Even if it is just a tiny airplane-tequila bottle.

Christmas Angel

My Christmas Angel. A tree at school, an angel at Church.
The tippy-top one is her playing Mary to the little baby, Jesus.

The Daddy and the Girl

The Daddy is working on his Psych degree. Yesterday he needed a case study. By yesterday, I mean midnight last night. So, who is available to interview at midnight? Yep, me. Nice. That better not happen often. Just what I need is a psychoanalysis by my husband. Nothing good can come of that. :)

The Girl curls up with the Daddy this morning.
"How come some people don't know Santa is real?" she asks.
"I don't know."
"Don't they know if they don't believe, they won't get gifts?"
"That's a great question."
"I believe in Santa. I can hear the jingle bell ring."

Here is to believing in the magic of Christmas. Keep believing.

gratitute

1. Health insurance. It is a good thing.
2. Lazy Saturday mornings
3. Phone calls from home
4. Generous friends and students
5. Real marshmallows. (Just keeping it real) :)

Bittersweet.

So, the hubs starts a new job. I have been in my profession for 10 straight years.
My job requires a degree and ongoing schooling. His required some training and some experience at what he does.
I get paid. OK, we all know I went into teaching for the money...ha.
He gets paid. Now that's just unfair.

I love her anyway.

Super Grouch (aka the Girl) is a slow starter most mornings, and today was no exception. So as I scolded her to get moving...

"Mommy, God tells all the babies who their mommy and daddy will be before they are born."

"Really, did God tell you your mom would be a super grouch?" I tease her.

"No, He told me my mommy would be the prettiest and the nicest."

Awwwwww. Now I feel bad about the grouch comment. But just for a second.

She continues, "...I think I was supposed to go to the Katie Poolers (note: friends of ours that we've been spending quite a bit of time with). I think God made a mistake."

OUCH. Get in the car kid. Mom was not amused. Now, a few hours later, it is more funny.

Gratitude

1. I have the money to pay my bills, and some extra to put away.
2. I have a trip home planned and purchased.
3. I work with people I really like. All of them.
4. I have a husband who kisses me goodbye, even if I am still mostly asleep.
5. I have a husband who kisses me hello when he gets home every night.
6. My daughter's tree costume turned out cute. And she likes it.
7. We are all healthy (for the most part).
8. Hand-me-downs for the Girl from the most stylish 2nd and 3rd grader you ever met. Most of them still have tags.
9. A teacher who really loves my Girl.

People who have done or said something to me or for me that I am grateful for today

the Daddy, the Girl, KP, JS, DC, TG, CK, IV, DM, LL, MP, SU, JR, SA, BS, KC. All that, and I haven't really talked to that many people today.

Sometimes I just need to be grateful and not let the weenies get me down.

I got to work today upset about my sis (again) and had already spewed my frustration all out at my husband (who has a pretty great set of shoulders, by the way) and only after he let me rant and rave and said nice things to me and then hung up the phone, and then I drove all the way to work, only then did I remember that while I was whining about how rude and selfish my sister can be to me, he is worried about his brother, who has been feeling very poorly lately. I can be quite a rude, selfish weenie.

PS. I learned a new bad word today. I had to look it up - it is bad when most of the sites that define it are blocked from work computers. Ask me about it off-list. The Joys of Teaching Junior High!

Sometimes I cry

Sometimes I cry for no good reason. Sometimes I cry for lots of good reasons. Today, I cry because once again my super-sensitive feelings have been hurt by someone who seems to take joy out of provoking a reaction from me. And, compliant me, I once again provided her with the fuel to continue lighting the fire.

My poor husband does not know what to do with me. He tries, God love him, he tries.

Not me Monday

1. I did not get me some baby love yesterday. I love that little boy!
2. I did not get on the blogger at lunch. Its a rainy day, what can I say?
3. I did not forget my lunch in the kitchen counter. Ooops.
4. I did not count change to give my child Holiday House money. Some paydays take longer to get here than others... :)
5. I did not win week one of the biggest loser at work! (OH YEAH I DID!! - 7 days 4.5 pounds, including a HUGE after-Thanksgiving luncheon at school on Thursday! In spite of the tempting treats, I was SOOO good, loading up my plate with white meat and veggies, and only a sliver of apple pie!!)

The Tree

I love decorating for the holidays. I love digging out the boxes and oohing and aahing over the ornaments, carefully picking out where to place each decoration, basking in the memories and amusing myself and hopefully my family by remembering from whom each one came, and when in our lives. Most of the ornaments belong to me; I don't think one is the Daddy's, other than ones I bought for him, but I have lots from my single years... and, of course, we have acquired a few together in the last 8 years.

But that is not the tree on my mind right now, other than needing to go through the Christmas boxes for this one. This is the tree I am turning my child into for a school production. Awesome. Some green fabric I found in a box, a hoop from my skirt that I wear under my Elizabethan costumes to make it tree-shaped, some plastic ornaments and garland, some ribbon left from my wedding... and a little patience and ingenuity... and I sincerely hope she does not look ridiculous. She is already bored with trying it on as I go.

Wish me luck. :)

Nothing to say

but thanks for stopping by anyway. :)

Not me monday

Let me rephrase

1. I did not gain all the weight I lost back. Plus 2 pounds.

2. I did not have words. With anyone.

3. I did not tell my husband he was not to answer the phone for anyone till I had a chance to explain #2.

4. I did not get caught up on my grading. (No, seriously, I did not).

5. I did not walk out of my classroom in abject frustration today.

6. I did not get depressed enough over the weigh gain to eat 4 grands honeybutter biscuits.

Nope, not me...

Up to date and not happy about it.

2 girls at work and I decided on our own version of biggest loser. So we did our first weigh in. Seriously. I spent all that money last summer to trim down and both the Daddy and I have put ALL the weight back on. So, in remorse, I ate a salad for lunch. And four buttered biscuits for dinner, because by then, I was just PO'd about the whole thing. A little self-defeating. Sucks to be a foodie on a diet. Maybe I should become a pastry chef, then people would worry I was too skinny.

I had words with someone and I know it will come home to roost, but I said what I felt needed to be said. I tried to say it nicely but they weren't hearing me, and then I just started crying, and then I just got mad about crying and the whole thing went nowhere fast. GRRRRR

The girl asked me if she could finish my diet soda, and I said sure, then remembered -too late - that is was the hopped up, extra caffeine and ginsing for energy version. An hour before bedtime. Nice job there, mama.

I brought them home but STILL have not graded last week's science tests. And don't think I will be getting to them tonight.

Yep, definitely considering the pastry chef thing. Maybe after I eat this Betty Crocker frosting out of the container. Except I think you get kicked out of pastry school for that. Hmmmmm.

Serenity now!

I have spent the last several hours sorting though the clutter that is our lovely home. I confess, neither the Daddy nor I is a neat freak. Or even relatively tidy. We are both pile-ers. Sometimes, like now, the piles get out of control. So, I talked him into an impromptu party. Tomorrow. Nothing like motivation to get me moving to tidy up, and to get him moving to claim he has homework to do. :) It is all good, though. Got the family room done, including behind and under couches. Got the kitchen counters (mostly) decluttered.

Decluttered enough to decide I needed to work on our plants. So, out came the pots, the soil , the shears, the fertilizer, the rooting hormone, and the plants to repot, trim, root, clean, and water. I think I clogged the disposal with some perlite. Or maybe vermiculate. I don't actually know the difference. My pothos is growing like it lives in the rainforest. Inches per week. The Daddy bought this horrible pot-vase-thingy, which I mocked endlessly when he brought it home, but he really likes, so I rooted some pothos and stuck in there. Darn if the dang things doesn't look gorgeous with these lush green, -heart shaped leaves overflowing the top and wrapping around the sides. The hanging parent plant has to be trimmed or it reaches the floor every two months. It may be time for some merciless pruning. The cuttings grow like weeds as soon as they hit the jar of water! Guess what I am now thinking of giving away for Christmas??? Speak now if you don't like plants. *smile*

On the other hand, we have this sad little spider plant that was doing so well last year, I gave all its spiderlets away. Now it just looks sad and scraggly. I unpotted it today to find the roots were withering away, so after teasing the Daddy about killing my plant, it is now in the plant hospital. We are anxiously waiting to see if our "greenhouse" (the south-facing bay window) is enough to revive it. It looks pathetic in the place where my uber-lush pothos used to hang.

Now, if I could only keep the cats out of the palm. They like the fronds, so they kill each new one as it opens. We have a kitty-free master bedroom (which we don't actually sleep in, and is essentially a giagantic closet). My poor palms might have to move in there. Unfortunately, taht means I will never see them. Then what is the point?

The point is that I find endless satisfaction digging my hands in the dirt. I don't actually know that much about plants, so mostly I learn how not to kill one, next time. I need "Plants for Dummies" because the books I have assume I have more knowledge than "plants grow in dirt (usually) and need water."

It is all good. I find peace and joy in the process of bringing forth live from a dying plant, or growing something where nothing used to be. If only my lettuce would grow larger than 3 inches across, we might actually eat something I grow this year. Or maybe I will just learn how to NOT kill lettuce next year.

Either way, I like working with the Daddy on our plants. It gives us something to spend time together on, something which is just ours and we don't have to include anyone else in. Except sometimes the Girl. But that is fun too, just different. (She is growing tomatoes. I learned that this time I should not water them quite as much. We've tried this before.)

Perfect day

I was up early - since I have gotten older, I am not so able to sleep in as I used to be. 2 hours and several Thanksgiving phone calls later, I woke up the Daddy and the Girl with fresh cinnamon rolls and the Macy's Parade. We putzed around, dreaming and planning in our backyard, and I started a fire in the fireplace while we ate pizza for lunch and watched a movie. Then I napped. (I meant it when I said I was up early!). Made some pie at the Girl's request. She can do without the Turkey, but not without the Pie. Side note: frozen pumpkin pie actually needs to remain frozen or it will glop all over as you take it out of the fridge - and onto the floor as it comes out of the box. Meanwhile, the Daddy and the girl went to the RedBox, and came home in time to watch me burn the flesh off of my hand (not really, but it hurts). Now, as I sip a glass of wine -purely medicinal, mind you - the Daddy and the Girl lit a fire in the fire pit he built while I napped and are roasting hot dogs. I need to join them now, so Happy Thanksgiving. May your day be perfect too.

Entry rated PG13. Nieces beware!

The Girl asks, "How does a baby get born?"

I think and then answer, "The Doctors take it out of the mommy's tummy."

"How?"

I am so not ready for this. The Daddy and I have never discussed what to say in answer to this. But, since he usually leaves these things to me, I answer, "They just know how to at the hospital." Please don't ask me to get more specific right now. For a split second, I think she has accepted this and is ready for a new topic. Nope, no such luck. It just gets worse.

"But how does the baby get into a Mommy's tummy?"

Even less ready for this question.
"God puts it there when he is ready."

"Did God really say the Mommies and Daddies have to kiss and cuddle and wrestle for Him to put a baby in the Mommy's tummy?"

I about wreck the car. This kid is awesome. Can't wait to hear what the Kindergarten teacher has to if Alex shares this at school.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA. No, sweetie, not really."

"But Daddy said..."

"I know, but Daddy was teasing you and Mommy..."
The Daddy really did say each of those things, in different conversations over the course of the last few weeks, but thinking she was out of earshot - or not listening - for the last one at least.

The way the Girl has put all of this together is priceless. She knows the Daddy and the Mommy hope God will give us a baby, because we finally stopped saying, "Not anytime soon," and started saying, "Whenever God is ready," in answer to her repeated requests for a brother and a sister, and another brother and another sister. She has been praying to Jesus to give her brother or sister for months now, at least since she knew 3 of her aunts had babies in their tummies.


The Girl Rocks. I pray God gives us another while she is still wanting a sibling.

************

This is oddly addictive

Just saying.

Decisions

The Daddy and I are forgoing the Thanksgiving over-indulgence this year. We had plans, but plans change, cancel, and get too complicated. We were left making choices we did not want to make about who to share the day with, and so we decided that cozying in with the Girl, watching football and movies, eating homecooked pizza will be an ideal family celebration of our own blessings this year. Maybe I will cook a turkey breast if we get tired of pizza and popcorn, and maybe an apple pie, but for us, the day is not about the meal. It is about the Family. For this year, we are going to tune out the outside world and simply enjoy one another.

********

We are making plans for the Christmas over-indulgence, though. I think we are going to travel alongside Santa on Christmas eve, and the Girl can wake up at Grandma's house. And the Mommy can get her hands on those three babies. Two nephews and a niece since I saw my family last and I cannot wait to shower some love on them, and their other brothers and sister. I cannot wait to smell that baby smell and kiss those baby toes. My brother invited us to stay at his house, and when I mentioned it to my mother, she said, "Whatever, you and (the Daddy) stay wherever you want, as long as (the Girl) stays here!" SOLD! Ok, not really, but that was a tempting offer!

Not me Mo...Tuesday

I did not skip yesterday. Oops.

I did not give detention to an entire class.

I did not drink a Mojito-and-a-half waiting for the Daddy to get home.

I did not make excuses to hang up too soon on my brother's phone call because the sound of a 1 month old baby crying set my ovaries to aching.

So proud

Today my hubs starts his new venture in life - that of a career soldier, apparently. He was offered -repeatedly, until he caved in and accepted - a full time position with the Guard.

As he rolled out of bed before me for the first of many mornings to come, and prepped his pack for both his first day at work, followed by his night school class, I am so proud of my husband. Not only did he make me weak in the knees as he kissed me goodbye in his uniform, but he has stepped up to the plate - both in the present by accepting this job that brings much needed income, but also allows him to be home both nights and weekends(!) and in the future, as he continues his classes toward the much coveted degree in Psychology -- the next step in his goal to become a professional counselor.

This is the man I married and I am so proud of him.

Moved

I am moved by the spirit in the oddest way. I weep. And weep and weep and weep. Almost every Sunday in worship. The rest of the congregation is probably starting to think I am a little crazy. I have to laugh and reassure someone almost every week. And I often get checked up on by my pastor.

I started weeping in Church when I was about 20. By then, I no longer attended with my family, but rather at a church where I worked in the offices. The first time I heard Father L say the Mass, I was moved to tears. And they did not stop week after week. So I stopped going to church. It frightened me, exhausted me. The Daddy and I started attending church again as a couple, and usually I can hide the tears from him. Lately, not so much. I wept so much this morning that I came home from Worship exhausted and slept for 3 hours.

I do not know why this happens to me. Often I am joyous, sometimes I am not. Sometimes the sermon speaks to my heart, other time I do not feel as connected. It does not matter the scripture reading. It does not matter the preacher.

It drains me. Does the Lord need to drain me in order to fill me up again? Is it outward punishment for my sins? It is meant to rid my soul of that which holds me back? I do not know. But I do know that it is getting worse.

She did it again

My sister. Seriously. Knows. Exactly. What. To. Say. To. Hurt. Me. In. A. Way. That. Makes. Me. The. B. If. I. Say. Anything. About. It.

This time, the bridesmaids for her wedding. We were discussing that she chose watermelon colored dresses, in a maternity-friendly style, just in case any of us that are pregnant by then actually want to look like we have a watermelon stuck up our dress. She mentions that it would flatter me (apparently because I am so fat in her opinion, which I ignore - and to clarify, she does NOT know we are trying to get pregnant)) and also that 2 of the bidesmaids that are hoping to be pregnant. She mentions them by name -oh-so-casually. Then the dramatic pause. Then as I remain silent, "What?" Nothing, sister dear, nothing at all. Not that it breaks my heart that one of them one of MY childhood dearest friends, who I asked to stand for me less than a year ago, who backed out at the ninth hour because being in a wedding would be too expensive as she undergoes fertility treatments. I was disappointed, but excited that she might become a mama, and told her I totally understood - hoping and being happy for her as she tries to have a baby far out weighs standing at my side at my wedding. So, I am hurt that she would accept my sister's invitation less than a year later, surprised my sister would even ask her. And left looking like the bitch if I even show I care.

Ok, that sounds all like righteous indignation. Here is why I can't say a word: that dear friend, also a cousin. Making her also my sisters cousin. Who doesn't have the right to ask their cousin to be in their wedding? Note, the cousin and I are the same age, grew up together, traded vacations to each others homes as adults, until I was living with the Daddy, she came out every New Years, and we were and have been very close. We became slightly more distant as our lives moved down different paths, but remained in touch and - I thought - remained close. The sister is 7 years younger, never in our social group, never spent vacations as an adult with us, etc. Yet still the cousin. None of the other girl cousins of our generation have been asked. Yet still the cousin. Making me the B for being even a little upset at either of them.

So paste that smile on, girl. Here we go around the carousel again.

THE MOST DANGEROUS CAKE RECIPE A RECIPE EVERYONE SHOULD KNOW

The most dangerous cake recipe 5 MINUTE CHOCOLATE MUG CAKE
4 tablespoons flour
4 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons cocoa
1 egg
3 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons oil
3 tablespoons chocolate chips (optional)
a small splash of vanilla extract
1 large coffee mug

Add dry ingredients to mug, and mix well. Add the egg and mix thoroughly. Pour in the milk and oil and mix well. Add the chocolate chips (if using) and vanilla extract, and mix again. Put your mug in the microwave and cook for 3 minutes at 1000 watts (high). The cake will rise over the top of the mug, but don't be alarmed! Allow to cool a little, and tip out onto a plate if desired. EAT! (this can serve 2 if you want to feel slightly more virtuous).

And why is this the most dangerous cake recipe in the world? Because now we are all only 5 minutes away from chocolate cake at any time of the day or night! You are going to print this out straight away, aren't you?

I found this online today. There was no credit information, so I do not know where it came from - but someone on facebook sent me to it. I am SO giving this one a shot. If you try it, leave me a comment to tell me how it turned out...

Goodbye Connie

We lost my aunt today. She has been in hospice care this last week, so this is not unexpected. This makes 2 of my fathers' siblings in less than a year. I think that mortality is hitting a little to close to home for all of us.

It is with both sadness and with relief for her that we commit her to God's everlasting care. Connie was no longer living the life she had envisioned for herself, and no longer knew. She was in tremendous, unmanageable pain and was in mid-stage dementia. Tonight she lies the the hands of God, reunited with the great love of her life and 2 of her 3 sons, who preceded her.

I remember Connie, the fabulous. Connie, the ever-laughing, ever-joking, fun loving aunt. Connie, running out of the house in her night dress, with all the blankets, to cover her precious citrus on the night of rare frost. Connie, the first person I ever remember hearing cuss, then nod at me that I was "grown up enough" to hear it. I love you Aunt Connie. Kiss Uncle Ray for me.

The Family Bed

We are some pretty controversial parents around here. We think spanking has a time and a place. We think mothers should be allowed to nurse in public. We think family time is so much more important than a tidy little house. We also believe in the family bed.

We have always put itty-bitty to bed with us, when she was tiny, the bassinet was next to the bed, but as she grew, we moved her right into the bed. It made for some sleep deprivations when she was little, because I was terrified I would roll onto her, so I nevcr slept soundly. I could never do the "let her cry it out" in her own room thing. I had a hard time caging my sad baby into her crib when she was unhappy, and neither could her daddy. If my job as a parent in partly to help my child feel secure and safe, how does letting her cry alone in the dark do that? Now, if you see this from the other side of the coin, I totally get those arguments too, so don't blast me with comments about how your way is better. It isn't, and neither is mine - but co-sleeping really worked and works for us. As she has grown, rolling onto her is no longer a fear, but being kicked in the kidneys, the chest or even the face sometimes equates to less sleep for the daddy and me. When the daddy was in Afghanistan, we made the transition into her own bed more than once - mainly in hopes that she would not feel jealous of his place in my affections and in the bed when he got home - but it never really took. More than once I thanked God for the wisdom to let her back in - when the heat from her fever woke me up before it got hot enough for long enough to be truly dangerous, when she threw up in her sleep laying on her back and began to choke on it...

The daddy and I have had some frustrating times as we acknowledged the need to transition her to her own bed so we get a good night sleep after a particularly restless one, and the need for that private time. We also ruefully acknowleged there will be a time when that cozy family cuddle and snooze will be a thing of the past. As over the past year she has fallen asleep every night in her own bed and is starting to spend more mornings waking up there as well, we praise her and exclaim at how grown up she is, and we privately mourn the loss. Don't grow up too fast, little one. You are always welcome to seek shelter from the dark, from the bad dreams, and the upset tummy. You are always welcome back into the bed for some cuddle and kisses, or just to snuggle up to mama and fall back asleeep. You are welcome to sleep in our bed when you need that. The family bed.

Self improvement

There are a myriad of ways I would like to improve myself, so it is time to set a goal and monitor myself a little. Choosing one aspect of my life to make a conscientious change about is hard when there are several areas I would like to focus on.

1. physical appearance
2. oversensitivity
3. pushing others away
4. staying in better contact with people I care about
5. trust
6. patience
7. overreacting

The first has been a lifelong battle, ever since I blossomed early and later was told, at age 14 and 124 pounds, that I was a little chunky. I wonder why I have issues? (I have seen the pictures. I looked awesome.) Nor can I afford plastic surgery to lift that which could use a lift, remove that which is extra, nor grow that which will not grow. So. Depressing. Let's not dwell.

Ok. overreacting and oversensitivity are related. To trust. And patience. Oh yeah, and not pushing others away. And staying in contact.

8. Focus. Let's add focus.

So, items 2-7 are intertwined. Probably in my warped psyche, someone more analytical and, well, not inside my actual brain, could find one root cause that I should focus on, but who cares why I am like that, just that I don't like being like that. SO.

Goal for this week: Do not immediately react negatively to anything. At least not out loud. Or typed. No visible negative reactions for at least an hour.

We'll see.

The Baby Saga

I want a baby. I have been trying to convince my husband for months. He mostly laughed. Recently we thought this was the time and in nine months we'd have our own little bundle of joy. I was suprised at how happy he was at the idea, and how sad he was when we found out it was not to be.

But guess what? YAY for no more waiting. He is finally ready whenever God sees fit to bless us with a sibling for Alex and make our family more complete.

Yay for husbands and for babies!

Time to be grateful

I have been a real downer lately, so let's get back to the whole point - being grateful for the blessings in my life:

Today I am grateful for:
- My pastor. Seriously.
- Wednesday night church for the girl and the 1.5 hours they tell the non-sing-ish mommies and daddies to go find something to do.
- Starbucks in the grocery store and just enough left on my gift card to NOT have to pay (and 23 cents left over!)
- A husband who can leap through (open) windows on a dare.
- A husband willing to take a dare from me, just to put a smile on my face, on what was like the the WORST DAY.
- Friends who check on me, even when I am grouchy about it. (I mean it.)
- A father-in-law who did something nice for me, just because he knew it really mattered to me.
- RedBox. Seriously genius invention. Wish it was mine.
- The crate of little-girl clothes to be packed away, in hopes of another - and because it means this one is growing healthy and strong.
- The ability to let go of those people who are ready to move on, with gratitude for their new-found comfort and peace. To my aunt, I wish you a peaceful last few days and after that, a peaceful slumber and know that you will be happy and strong as you continue to "Matriarch" our family from a better place, reunited with the your own Ray.

time to worry

I am baking again.

Not me Monday

I did not email my husband when I was supposed to be grading papers. At my desk. At work.

I did not convince my child that she was fascinated by the archaeology shows on the Science channel tonight.

I did not miss my calling on that one. (Alas, I have already used my "do-over")

I did not let my husband buy 6 trees this weekend. Nor did I push over an entire wall he intended to knock out with a sledgehammer. (Ok, I did - kinda proud of that one).

I did not blow off the 5 Am trip to the gym.

I did not read an entire magazine while letting my daughter play for just "5 more minutes". I am not giving my child a warped sense of time.

I did not nod wisely when I read my neice's blog about not being sure about wanting a baby and being very aware of the amount of change they bring -- but if she read this: I assure you, it IS worth it.

I did not get so self-absorbed this week that I let a friend feel lonely. (I did, and I am so sorry!)

I did not eat a cookie for dinner.
I am not about to eat another one.

loss

I have recently suffered a loss in my private life, and feel I have not properly mourned. Oddly, though, I am at peace with God's timing, and as a result, find it somewhat difficult to mourn. I find that weird about myself. My husband has been amazing throughout this process, and that may be part of why I am dealing with this so well.

At the same time, we have recently acquired a stalker or two. One is an ex-grilfriend of my husbands that I refuse to friend on Facebook, and as a result, has friended many family members around me in her exact words, "I thought it would be fun to see recent pictures of him and his daughter". (Lady, that is MY daughter.) It is so weird.

trust

Once trust is damaged, how you you get it back? This has been on my mind a lot lately. No, nothing new is going on with me, so don't worry. But as I think about a few of my friends going through difficult times, and I watch them struggle with this issue, I think of some of the struggles I have had with the same one. All of us, I think have struggled with this at one time or another.

The usual MO for the person feeling guilty is to lash out in anger. Here is the thing. Does that help? Has it ever? How does that "protect the ego," which the psych books say is the primary motivation for most people action, most of the time? All it does is perpetuate or worsen the problem. Why is it so damn hard for people to just say, This stinks, I messed up, I want to make it better? Why is it always about what the other person should do?

I am not a big MJ fan, but there is a song, The Man in the Mirror, the refrain of which I think is spot on:
I'm starting with the man in the mirror
I'm asking him to change his ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself and then make a change, yey
Na na na, na na na, na na na na oh ho

baking

I am a baking fiend. Wonder where those yummy Christmas treats come from? My freezer is already starting to fill up. I am out of eggs though, and Alex is in the middle of a RedBox, so we will postpone our grocery run for a few minutes.

Yesterday, between 3 of us, we make pineapple up-side down cake, pumpkin cinnamon rolls, and cream cheese brownies. There were 3 adults and 2 children in the house to consume these delights. I came home ready to vomit from all the sugar. So, today, I bake to give away - got a coupla soldiers on my list, and the start of the Xmas cookies... YUM

My gratitude

It has been a pretty rough week around here, and I am not prepared to share details at this time, because the details are not all mine to share, but as the week comes to a close, I reflect with gratitude on my life:

- My husband, who is not perfect, owning his mistakes and doing what needs to be done to make them right. Without qualm.
- My daughter who has been wrestling with a cough and some sleepless nights, asleep on the couch
- My friend, KP, who has opened her heart and her life and my eyes, just a little
- My husband, again, for being the rock I needed this week as our world went a little topsy turvy
- My boss, who sat me down, and told me what I needed to hear (and it was all good, and boy did I need to hear the good!)
- My bank account, as the savings begin to build again after the wedding drain
- My students, who took my absence in stride, but welcomed me back with gratitude and affection
- My sister in law, who gave me words of praise that I did not know she felt, and that I am so grateful to hear
- My aunt, with words of love reaching across the miles today
- My husband, again! who says, what the heck! Lets go for it! Just when I really want to go for it. He is so encouraging!

I babble

Seriously, I just read my last post. I should not blog at 2 in the morning. That post is not at all about what I sat daown to write!

Trials and tribulations

Have you ever found yourself in a situation defined entirely by perception, and come to the realization that no matter how sure you are, that the truth is still somehow not quite what you thought it was? That somewhere in the middle of this and that lies the truth and no matter how much you circle it, you may never actually reach it?

I was raised circling the truth and found that while everyone thought they knew the truth, no one actually has the whole story, except those that can no longer testify, the truth, the REAL truth is yet elusive all these years later? years later! Does it continue to matter? Indeed it does, for without the soul of the past coming to light, there is no understand of what was and what may yet be. There is no closure, yet to bring the spiraling circle around the truth ever smaller causes untold pain and suffering to others. My understanding is sacrificed on the altar of my refusal to cause that suffering. Completing my own circle of family is sacrificed on the altar of my refusal to cause that pain. Some of it is selfish. But of selfish half-truths comes selfish half lives. Of deceit and refusal to communicate; of words and actions taken in anger comes the child of that anger, now a mother herself, unable... nay, unwilling to complete the circle out of a perhaps misguided refusal to seal a circle that most are happy enough to leave with frayed edges, to lead a double or even triple life as a result. It stretches me too thin sometimes, and yet at other times is so natural as to seem almost that it is how it should be. I cannot upset the delicate balance that has been built over the course of my lifetime, and yet I hurt for the lost youth, the missing memories, the absences, the failure of the previous generation to put their pride and their hurt to the side and do what is in the best interest of the children. And yet, I think that they somehow thought they were doing the right thing. I think they ALL thought they were doing the right thing. And yet, at 35, I know so little of some of the members of my generation and I feel the pain of that loss. I know I am not who I was born to be, for that has been denied to me, and yet am I the person I am meant to be?

I find myself in a position where I am driven to refuse to allow that history to repeat itself, and yet find myself in the position where I am now the adult in a family that is recreating that cycle. I must find a way to teach without preaching, to move this family of which I have become a part in the direction I feel so strongly is necessary before the next generation feels the loss of missing memories and cries the hot tears of regret for the actions of the adults that should have known better, and yet I let the days and weeks and months and years slide past unchecked until it is far to late. Shame on me.

My life and loves

I have had some interesting experiences lately and have found some new friends that really are silver as can be... People with whom I hope that I can enjoy deeper friendships with, people I respect and admire and really enjoy being around... I have also come to the realization of the golden friends who have supported me through life's ups and downs...

Loving the people who love me.

Halloween, and kitties, and doggies, oh my!

And itty bitty will be Sleeping Beauty. She and daddy are out picking up some last minute pumpkins. (Have I mentioned the hectic week around here?) As of last night, I thought she was not goign to be able to go trick-or-treating, she was feeling so poorly... but she perked right up this morning. This is Daddy's first year to go trick-or-treating, what with deployments and retail job hours, he has never been home. He's pretty much excited to death.

We had our kitties in for their spay and declaw. Black kitty is apparently allergic to opium, so she is having a pretty slow recovery, since that is the pain med they used. It is hard to see her stumble and fall with her lack of coordination as she recovers.

Andy wants a dog. He comes from a family that believes in purebreds, so we are not talkign the $50 I thought to get on from the pound, but he wants a specific breed - bernese mountain dog - that run in the range of $1000. Seriously! Egads. What a dog snob he is!! :)

I want another baby, tho, which costs way more than that in the first few months, so.. maybe a trade. :) I think he might just be up for it.

Anxious

Anxious.
Excited.
Anxious.
More later.

Not Me Monday

I did not forget the vet apoointment.
I did not polish off the chinese food.
I did not leave the dishes for my husband.
I did not eat a chocolate chip cookie with unfettered joy this afternoon.
I did not blow off a party to sit with a bummed-out friend all day on Saturday
I did not drink 2 sodas today.
I did not throw out the rotton vegetables my daughter picked at the farm then refused to eat or refrigerate.
I am not currently ogling the last soda that I know I should save for my husband.
Nope, not me. :)

True lasting love

I have been with my husband for the better part of 8 years now. We have a 5 year old daughter, and an almost one year old marriage. (I know, but we have a no-judgement rule around here).

I have really and truly fallen in love with him in a way I did not know existed in the last few months. Something in him changed as we said our vows. (Don't hold out hope ladies, I don't think that actually happens all that often). I was not sure until I walked into the church. I was not sure all through the process of planning. I was not sure as we fought over who would be in the wedding (not at all still aggravated over the ex-girlfriend-who-had-to-be-a-groomsman at all. Instead of asking her to stand with the girls so my brothers could be in the wedding). I still wasn't sure that very morning. But then, the photographer had Andy come down the hall and had me step out so he could photograph the first time we saw each other that morning (as if the the 5:30 AM haircut I gave him that morning did not count -haha - ok, it didn't).

Then I was sure.

As we laugh over my not-so-subtle hints about a baby, and he makes not-so-subtle hints about a dog instead, I fall in love with my husband a little more. As he opens up aspects of his life that were once area "I intruded in" willingly and lovingly, I fall in love a little more. As I grow in my realization that no marriage is perfect, but mine is pretty damn close, I fall in love a little bit more.

I am so sure in a way I never was before.
I love my husband.

The house

One year ago this week, we moved into our new house. The search was rather sudden, the success quick and easy. The house itself, a disaster. Black carpet (that upon removal turned out to have once been white -EWW). Cracks and holes in the walls. Rotten cabinets in the kitchen. Missing/broken fixtures. Crazy silver paint in the weirdest places - like the grout on the fireplace hearth tiles.

Moving week was insane - one day I noticed my engagement ring was not on my finger - I had the plumber in to vacuum the drains, we tossed the house, we finally unpacked the already packed boxes and found it had slipped of my finger! Thanks heavens we found it...

My in-laws showed up one day to help. Did I mention I did not know they were coming? Their son was not even home; one of his brothers decided to "return" all the loaner furniture that had once been Andy's on the same day. Really? In the middle of an impromptu moving day? Without asking? We had planned to hire movers - my vision had been of movers placing carefully packed boxes in the correct rooms. Instead, contrary to repeated requests, things were tossed haphardly into unlabeled boxed (not by me), and stacked wherever (also, not me). My husband still has not found his Army ring and his watches.

Do I sound ungrateful for the help? I am not. It is just that sometimes help is not actually helpful unless it is what the helpee asks the helper to do. Just food for thought.

Back to the house...

We started joyfully to paint our daughters room, which we had dreamed of for so long, and planned so carefully, only to have my MIL have a breakdown and guilt her son into coming over to her house instead because, well, you have to know my MIL. Just because. Which he did. I almost moved right back out that night.

But, the moving in progressed. Before we took residence, we had a break-in - loss included a DVD player (and the enclosed Ariel movie - crisis!) and my laser level. I have an almost man-like affection for my tools and a sentimental attachment that is distinctly girlie, based on the giver of the gift of each tool... so as disturbing as the violation of the sanctity of my new home was, the girl and I still have angst over our loss...

As the days turned into weeks, and we finally locked the door on our rental for the last time, we moved into our freshly-carpeted, professionally cleaned, mishmashed baxes stacked everywhere, and began the rest of our lives together...

Then the pipes in the laundry burst... story for another day. :)

desire

Did I mention how desperately I want another baby? Suggestions on how to convince the hubs?

the chef

Am feeling kinda Alton Brownish. Made grilled artichokes with homemade roasted garlic mayonnaise and steak fajitas. I brined my artichokes as directed, and man were they tasty! Dad and the girl chowed down - good thing I made a double batch!

feeling melancholy

I am feeling melancholy, so lets get that right out of the way. I moved from home because the sibling rivalry in my home was ridiculous. My older bother and I fought like cats and dogs for most of my childhood; but as soon as we were no longer under the same roof, we started to get along fantastically. My younger brother and I always got along OK - we have pretty different personalities - he is so athletic and I am kinda bookish, he was Prom King - I didn't even go... but he is so laid back that he is easy to get along with - he is the peacemaker. My sister, on the other hand, lets just say Glenda and WWof the West got along better. Most recently she tried to ruin my wedding, but that is a story that is neither here nor there today. But, the nasty version of sibling rivalry I suffered at her hands for most of my young adulthood pushing me close to the edge of my sanity and my ability to forgive, and frankly, the edge of my ability to not hurt back... one of us had to go, and being the big sis and not the mama's baby that my 30 year old sister still is and not being at all bitter (haha, but at least seeing it in myself is the first step, right?), I went as far from home as quickly as humanly possible. But, sometimes I know I went too far away, and married a man who feels firmly rooted here. Here where I do not want to be. I am inconveniently far from everyone, and as my nephews have grown from 5 and 3 to 17 and 15 since I moved here, and new babies continue to be born, I need to be there. There is nothing for me here. There is a good job and a nice home, but those can be found again. I have wonderful friends, but have spent my whole life in long-distance friendships and making new, nearby ones. My husband's family is distant at best, even as they are close by physically, all of them spending more than my lifetime here, and definitely not needing me as I need them - one sided relationships don't work so well. As long as my husband and child come too, I could be packed and out the door tonight.

I know something in me is broken and I do not know how to fix it. I know that holding onto these feelings is not healthy. My wedding was the last straw with my sister, my mother doesn't see it - or at least refuses to acknowledge it (although my brother acknowledged the problem, at least at my rehearsal dinner), my brothers both have new babies I am desperate to meet, I am jealous of the closeness of others with their families.

I always say or do just the right thing to push others away, and even though I try so hard, I just am socially needy, awkward and insecure.

I know all these things will get better with prayer. And intense therapy...


UPDATE: ACTUALLY SHARED MY THOUGHTS WITH THE SIS. HAD A TEARFEST. MADE A PLAN TO TRY TO BOND. HOPE SHE MEANS IT, BECAUSE I DO
Sigh. Ok. Back on track, pity party is over...

Things to be grateful for today:

The twins are in NICU, but with a little luck and prayer, should be able to go home with mama and daddy tomorrow.
I do actually like my job and the people I work with.
My daughter is beginning to read.
My niece and her family are finally healthy and back into the world today.
My husband has been offered a good job that he wasn't even looking for.
I no longer have black roots and blonde ends (sometimes it is the little things, you know?)

Today's gratitude

My husband
-appreciates every meal I cook for him
-and makes sure I know it.
-takes care of all the yard chores
-and doesn't make me feel bad about it.
-loves our daughter to pieces
-and makes sure she knows it.

Gratitude

Feeling the need to start a new blog (again). I go through these swings where I blog, then delete, then I blog...Facebook kinda became it for a while...

So, here we go again

- a husband who thinks I am beautiful through the weight loss, gain, loss, gain...
- a daughter who wants to play with me
- brothers who make me laugh from a million miles away
- the internet which allows me to see my friend's baby laugh. In Turkey.
- a pastor who brings me closer into the fold with his passionate example, humor, and open arms
- amazing colleagues at work
- my wonderful friends who all seemed to scetter - job wise - to the wind this year, but remain people who make me laugh... and who owe me an happy hour! (Hint, hint)
- two kittens who allow my 5-year old to dress them up and drag them around.
- a good job and a steady income
- a husband with goals and dreams that are big enough to share
- cousins I have not seen in years who open their arms to say, "What years?"