10 New Year's Resolutions I can keep

Every year I make resolutions that I never keep.  I get depressed about it and my new year starts off knowing I'm setting myself up for failure.  This year, I'm going to keep 'em.  I will.

No, really.

I can sooo keep these.

Sarah's 2011 Resolutions:

1.  to gain a minimum of 5 lbs.

2.  procrastinate a little more

3.  not cook dinner at least twice a week.

4.  be impatient with my husband

5.  raise my voice at my children

6.  wear a sweatshirt and ponytail 6 days of the week

7.  drink too much coffee

8.  eat more chocolate

9.  go to bed too late

10.  mop once every Blue Moon

oooh, Blue Moon.  maybe I need 11 resolutions.

11.  drink one Blue Moon per...per mood swing.

Yep, that covers 'em.  And I'm sure on December 31, 2011 I will be able to cross them all off my list.

And we all know how much I love to make out lists and check off the items!

What are your resolutions for 2011?

where does the time go

She was 11 months old when I met her.  I was 16. 

With a smile on her sweet face, she reached her chubby little arms up to me, asking me to hold her.  I was terrified.  She was the first baby I'd ever been around.

I didn't know if it was okay to pick her up.

So I patted her head.

Her uncle became my boyfriend.

And then she became my niece.  But before that, this girl, she had my heart.

I've never been able to get enough of her.  She's always been someone you want to be around. 

She's beautiful on the outside and even more on the inside.  I love this girl's heart.

She is funny and smart.  She's goofy.  And a thinker.  I love her laugh and the way she blushes.  I love that she lets me play with her hair and I adore that she plays with her little cousins.  Having her here for a week this summer was a highlight in my year.  If only I'd been as wise as she when I was a teenager. 

She's an artist through and through and I can't wait for the day she's famous and I can tell people I changed her diaper.

I love you, sweet niece of mine.  More than words on any blog post can say.

Happy 15th Birthday!

Simple Joys

I have stuff I'd like to write about.  I have a post in draft titled, "Christmas Confession."

I'm sure it'll stay in draft.  Sometimes I don't wanna share the ugly.

Instead, I'll provide 10 simple joys in my life.  I {heart} simple.  Sometimes we just need simplicity in our lives to make us happy.

Here are 10 simple joys in my life.

1.  Freshly bathed children

2.  A husband wearing cologne

3.  Amber..always Amber.

4.  Laughing til it absolutely hurts

5.  A freshly groomed Golden Retriever

6.  A purring kitty

7.  Starbucks gift card

8.  My library card

9.  My nieces.  All of them.  They bring me much JOY.

10.  Slippers

What are some of your simple joys?

the scripture and snapshot without um, the snapshot

I have a decent camera. 

I don't know how to use it but I have one.

I don't have any of the photo editing fancy shmancy software.  Honestly, I'm lucky if my computer turns on each morning.

And when it does turn on the only things I know how to do are FB, Twitter, Gmail, and blog.  I wouldn't know how to use fancy shmancy photo editing software if I had it.

I never really cared much about that until a few days ago.

I'm sure many of you have seen this:




floating around on blogs.  I love looking at the scriptures that folks choose for their photos.  I love the fonts they choose.  The colors.  The stories they're telling with picture only.

Since I'm not a photographer I haven't ever had the urge to participate in Scripture & a Snapshot until a few days ago.

I have no snapshot but here's what I can tell you my photo would have been of:

An alarm clock reading 3 a.m. on a snowy work day.  A man pulling the warm covers off his still tired body.  Sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes.  Pulling on longjohns, jeans, jacket and boots.  Quietly of course, as to not wake the rest of the house.  A man heading out in the snow to the home of his parents to plow their driveway.

Because, "Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God is giving you."  Exodus 20:12

I love that my husband honors his parents.  I love that he's willing to give up sleep and the comfort of his bed in the wee hours to plow their driveway for them.

There's no picture of that moment to hold in my hand.  But I'm holding it safely in my heart.

What Pandas Eat

This morning I was opening up a box of cereal for Spice.

photo courtesy of amazon

As I'm opening up the box of cereal Sugar pipes up. 

"Hey, those are Pandas!  Did you know that Pandas eat boob?"

"Whaaa?!"  I was completely astonished, had no clue where that came from.

But Josh says, "You mean Pandas eat bamboo."

"Oh, yeah, bamboo."

My Turn

You email.

You comment.

You call.

Or text.

You let me know you're praying for me.

You bless me so.

I'd like to return the favor.

I'd love to pray for you.

You can leave your prayer request in the comments section or you can email me at truckfamily@gmail.com if it's more personal than you care to share on the blog.

I'm so thankful for each and every one of ya.

{getting over me}

The hardest person I deal with on a daily basis is...

me.

Hands down.

I'm a hot-tempered, loving, roller coaster basket case.

In a 5'2" frame.

Why I'm choosing to share about my morning, I don't know.  Maybe just a public apology to my children.  So they know I'm sorry for who I was this morning and for who I am on many mornings.

**

Today started off so great.  Spice slept all night.  That's right, all night.  I had six straight hours of sleep and felt great.  I got out of bed at 6, had my coffee, FB'd, emailed, played three games of CandyLand with Sugar (all of which I won) and then Spice woke up around 8.

The morning was relaxing.  We had a Christmas party planned with other moms and kiddos that started at 10:30 and we just went about our morning leisurely.  I realized time was getting away from us so I started getting myself and the girls ready.  Everything was fine.

Until I had to find something to wear.

All of my clothes are clean but I have nothing to wear.

I look frumpy and gross in everything I try on.  And that girdle I bought a few weeks back, yeah, she's a lil too snug now and I think I need another girdle just to stuff in what the first girdle can't hold in.

I throw on some jeans and a t-shirt that I'm positive I wore to our last get together with these moms and kids.

After throwing jeans and shirts and girdles all over my house I realize the girls' hair is a mess, I have no make up on and I forgot to put the de-frizz in my hair.

So, I'm a frumpy, frizzy mama.

Spice never complains about having her hair done.  But today she screamed. 

I was now running late and I was frustrated.

The other moms with the other kids have cute hair-styled, perfectly dressed children.

I don't have that.

But on days when we're getting together, I try to pull us together.

I shoved Spice off my lap.  Like really shoved.  Sugar came in to get her hair done and Sugar always fusses about having her hair done.  Always.  Today was no exception.  I kicked her out of the bathroom, slammed the door and called my husband.

"Talk me down from this ledge."  I tell him. 

He can't.

He can do a lot of things for me but at this moment, in my mind-set, he cannot talk me off this ledge of madness I'm feeling.

I send a text to Candee telling her my kids are sick and I won't be coming.  The couple coughs this morning probably don't count as being really sick.

Who lies to their best friends?

Apparently me.

I sit down.

Sugar comes up to me and tells me she's ready to go.  I tell her we aren't going.  Her eyes well with tears and she bolts from the house. 

In the amount of time it takes her to circle the house I utter a prayer I don't even remember.  I just know I asked for help.

She comes in.  Eyes red.  Tears fresh on her face.

"We're going." I tell her.

We're going even though my hair is wet and frizzy and I have no make-up on.  We're going even though the kids aren't in their cutest clothes and their hair is matted to their heads.  We're going even though I'm wearing the same thing I wore a few weeks ago when we got together.

And so we went.  And everyone looked great and then there was us.

But we sang Happy Birthday to Jesus and we did crafts and listened to a story.

And I chose to forget about the fact that I was wearing gold toe socks or that Sugar's socks were bright red and didn't match her clothing in the slightest.

Why did we go?

Because today wasn't about me. It wasn't about what my girls were wearing or how cute their hair looked.

It was about celebrating Jesus' birthday with other mamas and kiddos. It was about fellowship.

It wasn't easy getting out the door and putting aside my feelings but I'm glad we did.

No Towel, Need Sleepy

(Tommy Boy reference)

I've just decided that I'll never get a full night of sleep again until I'm dead.

Dead, I say.

The night my mom took Spice I had visions of sugar plums dancing in my head that I would actually sleep without the little rugrat here.

My neighbor, on the other hand, well he had a different idea.

They have five vehicles.  Two adults live there but they own five vehicles.  (who am I to talk, we have five vehicles, too.)

Ouch.  (truck and car for sale!)

Anyway.

At 3:30 in the A! M! the neighbor decides to start his loudest truck.  The truck that doesn't run very well unless your foot is on the throttle.  And so he has his foot on the throttle, revving it up.  For approximately 15 minutes.

At 3:30 in the A! M!

I couldn't fall back to sleep until nearly 6.  Because once I've been woken up my mind starts racing.  Everything I need to get done the next day.  Everything I didn't do the day before.  I remember conversations I had that I wish I hadn't or remember conversations I didn't have that I wished I did.  I remember that I didn't clean the jelly up off the counter or rinse the toothpaste out of the sink.

And I remember I didn't kill that one spider because, well he won't hurt anyone way up there (and because Josh couldn't come home to kill it for me.)

But that probably means the spider is now lowering his nasty little self down from the ceiling and into my hair.

You see.  I think about important stuff at 3:30.  When the sun is still asleep and so are the neighbor's roosters.

At least for another 30 minutes because I guess 4 is when they think the sun has come up even though it really hasn't.

When my mom came to get Spice the other day she informed me that I looked tired. 

Or sick.

Well, surprise, freaking surprise since I am sick and tired of being tired.

I want to stay in a hotel room where there aren't any children allowed on the floor I'm staying in.  I don't want anyone to come fluff my pillow or offer to clean my room.  I just want sleep.

But if that's too much to ask for I'll take an IV filled with Starbucks, please.

Tuesdays blab

I now have two children under my roof.

All is right in my world.

While it was nice to be able to get a lot of work done last night with Spice at my mom's, I'm just not a complete mama without her here.  My mother said she slept all night for her.

Because she slept with my mom.

I think that's all the kid wants.  To sleep with us.  Guess there won't be anymore babies.

I'm taking a break from mud and taping.  Can you believe at this very moment I'd rather be doing dishes?  That's how tired and frustrated I am with this room I'm working on.  So tired.  So frustrated.  And my boogers are full of drywall dust.  It's fabulous.

You're welcome.

Carpet was to be installed Friday but seein's how I suck at moving quickly in the ways of the drywall, I called and asked if the installation could instead, be on Monday or Tuesday.  So, it will be Tuesday and now I can get a little rest time.

Hallelujah.

Amen.

I have a crying two year old in my lap.  Dishes to do.  A dog with breath that smells worse than the town I live in.

And a contentedness about me.

Happy Tuesday!

thoughts on a monday night

i'm hungry.

thankful my husband is on his way home with take out.

i haven't had a full night of sleep in several days.  i'm not sure what her deal is but spice, well spice has decided to wake up several times a night lately.

friday night i was up with her six times.  saturday night josh said he'd be on spice duty.  he got up with her three times then was asleep like the dead the other two times she got up.  i woke with her three times last night.

my mom, bless her heart, came to pick up spice an hour ago.  she's keeping her for the night so we can at least get one full night of sleep.

that one full night of sleep will be enough to have me considering babies again.

remind me the next time i start baby making talk about what this last weekend was like.

thank you.

friendships.

can i just say the ones that you have to work at the most are the most worth it?  yes, there are easy friendships for sure but the ones i have to fight for i've found are the ones that i feel i couldn't live without.

love.my.friends.

christmas cards have been filling up my mailbox.  i love this time of year.  i have my Christmas cards sitting on the bar, addressed and everything.  i just haven't put stamps on them.  i'm lazy like that. 

on friday i'm paying off our van.  fingers crossed.  pretty stoked about it.  how i'd love to take the money and go on a vacation but that day will come as soon as we're debt free and save for it.

i'm nearly done with my Christmas shopping.  thought i was all done then remembered a wee little niece i still need to buy for.  i think i'll just wrap up Spice and give 'er to my sweet niece.

took some time off from the home schoolin' deal for a bit.  gained some perspective.  then my heart swelled up last night when Sugar says to me at bedtime, "Mama, can we do school tomorrow?"  she woke up later than normal this morning but as soon as her breakfast was finished she grabbed her math book and was ready to go.  if only all home school days were like today.

my mom and i emailed back and forth today.  if i could post it, i would.  i can't.  but let me tell you the tears were rolling and i thought i was gonna die from laughing so hard.  the word areola was mentioned a time or 12.  and that's all i'm gonna say about that.

pretty sure i hear the '85 suburban pulling up the driveway.  or maybe it's that i smell my food.  either way, it's time to end this nonsense post.

happy monday, sweet friends.

Let me get right on that

My fortune cookie from last weekend.

We got a good laugh.

I Wogged

I got on the treadmill tonight for the first time in what feels like 500 years.  I didn't run or walk.  I wogged.  More than a walk, not quite a jog.

I hit one of the pre-set dealies and it ran it's course while I huffed and puffed and considered blowing the house down.

I got up to a whoppin' 3.5 mph and thought I was going to keel over and die.

Josh rooted for me almost the entire time.  You know, when he wasn't bathing the girls and cleaning up the paper plates I served his fabulous dinner on.  I think I should buy him some pom poms and a short skirt.

Okay, maybe just the pom-poms.

Yes, I finished out the 30 minutes but it wasn't easy.  I have this spot in my lower back on the right side that was going nuts.

I'm not happy with how I've just let myself get all flabby and outta shape.  I used to run.  A lot.  Yeah, that was like 15 years ago but still.  I used to do it. 

I'm wanting to pick up a package of Oreos and have myself a bit of a pity party.

But then that 30 minutes would be wasted and we wouldn't want that.  I'm going to stick with it.  I really am.

No, really.  I am.

to have another babe or not to have another babe...that is the question.

My husband ran into a friend of ours the other day.  His children were in our wedding as the flower girl and ring bearer.

Now the flower girl is 16.

And the ring bearer is in college.

It's official:  I'm old.
The end.

Kidding.

Kelly (our friend) told Josh that we need to have more kids.  That they're sad they only had two children.

Three weeks ago our pastor said as much.  He said his only regret about their kids was that they didn't (or couldn't) have more.

We hear it often from a whole lotta folks.  "We wish we'd had more."

For several months now I've felt content with our two girls.  After I had Spice I ran into a lady at Safeway that I know pretty well.  It was the first time she'd seen our new baby and she says to me, "too bad Josh couldn't have gotten a little boy this time around."

So I asked Josh if he was bummed that he didn't have a son.

"Nope."

And if we had another baby it's not that we'd be doing so to try to "get" a boy.  We'd be having another baby so we could add craziness to this household.  Boy or girl.

But the thought of adding more craziness to my already crazy, well, it makes me want to have my counselor on speed dial and possibly the psych ward too.

I love my kids, I do.  I love the thought of having oodles (did I say oodles?) more.  Yet it terrifies.

Kids aren't easy.  Parenting is toooouuugh.  And I'm not of the notion that it gets easier as they get older.  It just gets different.  I'm certain the only difference (okay maybe not the only) in having a teenager and a toddler is that the teenager can make his/her own food and most likely doesn't wear a diaper.  I think there will still be nights where you're up in the middle of the night, whether because you're praying they get home safely or because they just want to chat in the middle of the night. 

Thinking about homeschooling three kids seems daunting but there are families that homeschool five kids or uh, 19.  I should be able to handle three, right?

We just don't know.  We go back and forth about having more kids.  We want to.  We're freaked about it.  I mean, after all, we do have Spice.  And she's like 7 kids in one.  So basically we have eight kids.  It just looks like we have two.

And do I really want to change diapers for another 500 years?  Can the next one come out potty-trained?  And can he/she sleep through the night from day one?  I mean, I have a 2.5 year old who still wakes up sometimes three times a night.

Maybe that's why I can't make a decision.  I'm still sleep deprived.

the day school was closed for snow day!

Pole was made of wood, thankfully!

If anyone in this house is going to have something bad happen, it's going to be Spice.  She finds trouble wherever she goes and whether she's looking for it or not.  Had this been a metal pole I'm sure her little tongue would have been stuck to it.

My girls love the snow and even though I don't, I decided I should take them to the park to play for awhile.  We called it a 'Snow Day' and decided not have school that day.  It was a treat for all of us, even if I did have to endure the snow.

Swings and snow.  Really?

  

Hey girls, do you think you can learn to keep your tongues in your mouth?  Just a thought.

 

Spice always has me wondering what's goin' on inside her little head.

No trip up the driveway is complete without running into a llama.

I hate dishes more than I hate snow.  We went to the park with high hopes that when we returned these dishes would be done.  Unfortunately I think they multiplied while we were gone.

(no clue what's up with the wonky text and picture placement but whatev.)

I am Thankful for Online Driver's License Renewal

I'm sure the statistics for people enjoying having their picture taken for their driver's license is about -0.07%.  It's just not fun.

Sure, the first one you're kinda jazzed because, heck, you passed!  But you might be worried the nervousness you felt during the driving portion of the test is going to show through your purple shirt and into your first, very own, brand spankin' new driver's license.

You might also not be thrilled with your then boyfriend making faces at you while you're trying to get your picture taken.

Then, you get married, gain 25 lbs, chop off your hair to accentuate your chubby face and have your driver's license picture taken again.

You let your hair grow out a little, lose a coupla pounds and happen to "lose" your driver's license.  You put on as much white eye liner as possible and head in for yet another picture.

You've gained another ten pounds and of course that means it's time for driver's license renewal, in fact while you're mowing lawn #358 on a scorching hot June day you remember your license is actually past due.  You take your grass clipping filled, ponytail'd hair down to the Dept. of Licensing, put on the cheesiest of cheesy grins and *snap* you have a god-awful license for the next five years.

After years of being pulled over and having to show the god-awful picture, you've lost 30 lbs, it's time to renew and when you go in to have your picture taken the employee does a double take of his screen from your previous picture to the you standing before him.  He then turns the screen so you can see your fattie self from a few years before on the big screen.  You really were larger than life.  You enjoy asking the guy to change the weight on your driver's license, smile pretty for the picture, leave the building...

and proceed to gain back that 30 lbs instantly.

You've had a baby or two and it's time to renew the dreaded license.  The thought of going into town to renew seems too much.  You look in the mirror.  Your hair is haphazard, as are your clothes (where's that bra, again!?) you no longer wear white eye liner or any other make up to speak of.  Your clothes have spit up on them and you get outta breath trying to tie your shoes.

Then, you see the magic words on the renewal notice:  "Renew Online." 

So for another few years you can pretend you look 24, have one chin, wear make up and sport a cute hairstyle.

The Coat Lesson

In our huge five years of parenting, we've changed here and there in the discipline department.

It used to be all spankin's and then for awhile I just gave up on disciplining at all (it lasted like a week) and now I feel like we're trying to do what's best for each situation.  It might be a spankin', it might be a time-out, it might be some talking to or it might be that a lesson needs to be learned another way.

Case in point, last Wednesday night.

Our little family had some errands to run and my husband wanted to take us out to dinner.  All of these things sounded fun but it was 6 degrees outside and if there's one thing you should know about me it's that I don't like to be cold.

Not even a little bit.  I like my house to be at 75 degrees in the summer time and winter time.
6 degrees and I do not get along.

However, my five year old doesn't seem to mind being cold.

As we were getting ready to head out of the house she informs us she does not like her coat at all and does not want to wear it.  We start to put it on her anyway and there's some protesting going on.

She says again that she doesn't like her coat.  She says it's too bulky.

We were pretty frustrated.  She has a very nice coat and lot o' kids don't have one.

There wasn't a spankin', no time-out, just a "you're going to learn this lesson on your own."

I made Sugar get out with me at each stop we had to go to.  I was bundled up, she had no coat.  I'm sure I looked like the worst mother ever for having myself all nice and toasty while my kid shivered in a green sweater.

When we got to the restaurant Josh parked as far away from the door as possible and we made sure we had to tie shoes along the way, stop to look at the pretty rocks and whatever else could stall us getting to the door.

"Sure wish I had my coat, I'm cold."

We talked with her about it.  Let her know that we are so very blessed to have warm items to wear in the winter.  Some people don't have the luxury.

I don't think a spanking or a time-out for her poor attitude would have taught her the lesson about why we need to be grateful to have coats.  I think learning the lesson on her own really hit it home for her.

It's been nearly a week and she hasn't complained about wearing her coat since.


So, if you saw me in Safeway and Rite-Aid and El Valle last week with a kid without a coat, there was a reason.  Promise.  ☺

Sometimes...

...I don't get God.  I know it's not necessary for me to get Him for Him to be Him.  But still.  Sometimes I wanna scream, punch, hit and cry.  And ask why.

...I forget to take a shower for a few days.  I don't know how it's possible to actually forget to do something like that but it happens to me.  Often.

...I wonder if I'll ever get time alone with my husband.  We just found out the going rate for babysitting and, well, I'm pretty sure we'll never go on another date again.

...I wish my sister didn't live eight hours away.

...I dream about having more babies.

...I think about getting rid of every mirror in our house.  No flippin' joke, I do.

...I miss our Beagle something fierce.

...I don't want to get out of bed and face my day.  It's too much.

...I want to put my kid in public school or private school or anywhere but home school.

...Spice makes me want to pull all my hair out.  And hers, too.

...I don't want to leave the house.

...I'd love to work outside the home.

...I wish we'd never bought a fixer-upper. 

...I consider cutting meat out of my diet.  I'm noticing more and more what it's doing to my body and I'm not liking it.  I'm just not ready to give up bacon.  Or ribeyes.  (I blame Emily for introducing me to ribeyes.)

...I feel like we give our kids too much.  We don't buy them toys. (besides Christmas and birthday) But I still feel like they have so much.  I want to teach them that they have it so good in comparison to other kiddos around the world, around our country, our state and even in our small town.

...I'd like the neighbor's dog to play in the street.  I'm so tired of him barking.

...I wonder why my five year old still eats dog food.  Seriously, I just had to get after her about eating the dog food.

...I wonder why Josh puts up with me day in and day out.  It must be my great cooking or my morbid awesome sense of humor.  Because it's not my looks and it's definitely not the clean clothes I provide. 

...I wish we'd never taken Shadow into our lives (sorry, Min) because of the hair.  Oh, the hair.  And the neediness.  He needs me more than my husband, children, two cats, and all my personalities combined.

Did I really just admit to having personalities?

Alrighty then, I think that's a good place to quit!

Happy Monday, sweet friends!

My Thank-You Card Saga

I was not raised knowing that it's courteous to send out thank-you cards.

My mom wasn't raised that way and so it just wasn't something she knew to teach.

Then I met my husband's family.  My soon-to-be in-laws.  And these people sent out thank-you cards.  And, not just any thank-you cards.  Homemade thank-you cards. 

I realized that thank-you cards were a nice thing to do.  It lets the giver know the gift was received and appreciated.

The first time I decided I was going to make and send out my own thank-you cards was for our wedding gifts.

Bad idea, Sarah.  Bad, bad, bad.

But, I was 18 and dumb.

(now I'm 30 and dumb, but whatever.)

And so I made some ugly homemade cards because that's the nice, courteous thing to do.  Maybe not so much the ugly part is the nice and courteous thing but keep followin' me here.

I was utterly and completely overwhelmed.  I sat out there in my tiny little apartment, my husband gone off to work, my friends gone off to their first year of college, my mom and sisters and all that I knew for 18 years were living their lives. 

I started on the cards.  And I cried.  I had at least 100 to make, if not more.  Partly because I was still needing to send out thank you cards for my high school graduation gifts from the previous month.

sigh...

I cried.  Made another few cards.  Called my SIL and pretended life was peachy and when we hung up I cried some more. 

The cards were ugly and I knew it.

So they didn't get sent out.

It didn't occur to me that I could just go buy some.  They were supposed to be homemade!!!

Weren't they?

A few months after we were married a woman about my mom's age who had just gotten married a few months or so before Josh and me, came up to me at church and offered me the thank-you cards she'd received as a wedding gift but didn't need.

So, I went home and filled most of them out, addressed some of the most I'd filled out and then sent out just some of those.

I was horrible at stuff like that.

12 years later, I'm only a little better.

When Josh told me we'd be having a party for my 30th birthday I immediately went out and bought thank-you cards.  I no longer have the expectation of myself to make thank-you cards.  I love receiving them but I've come to realize, I just suck at making them.

So, off to the store I went.  I picked out these cute little cards that screamed, "Thank you for making my 30th birthday special!  I'm thrilled you thought of me!  This isn't a homemade card but it still comes from the heart!"

It really did scream all those things.

For realz.

My birthday came and it was uhh-mazing.  Click here if you weren't around for it.  Gifts galore.  I was beyond blessed.

And I kept record of everything you guys gave me.  I wrote it down and I filled out thank-you cards as my gifts poured in.  I even *gasp* addressed them right then and there.

Cue sigh of relief.

And then a few days went by and the cards disappeared.

I couldn't find 'em.

I assumed I must have dropped them at the post office and just forgot.  I'd forgotten a lot of things in the previous months so it didn't surprise me that I must have just taken them, dropped 'em off and then let it slip from memory.

Boy was I wrong.

In August, two months after my birthday, I hear my girls giggling in their bedroom.  And folks, that's just never a good sign.  They very rarely get along so I knew something was up.  I go in their room and can't see them.  I can still hear them but can't see 'em.  Sure enough they are behind this big, blue chair in the bedroom.

And they have the pile of, "Thank you for making my 30th birthday special! I'm thrilled you thought of me! This isn't a homemade card but it still comes from the heart!" thank-you cards. 
They have ripped all of them open.

Every last one of 'em.

And that's why you didn't get a thank-you card for the gifts you sent.

(Where the cards were for those two months, I've no idea.  I'm sure I put them somewhere where I'd remember to grab them and take them to the post office.  Instead, little girl hands found them first.)

Thankful some more

I'm a blessed girl.  Blessed beyond measure really.

A few more things I'm thankful:

My husband.
He goes to work each day without complaint.  When he gets home from work he kisses me.  He picks our girls up and loves on them too.

My girls.
They make me a widdle bit cwazy now and again but they are a joy.  JOY.

Making new friends.
Dude.  It's so flippin' outta my comfort zone to talk to other girls.  Like, so out of my comfort zone.  But it's been good for me.  Just today the girls and I were invited into the home of a girl I just recently met, with a few other mamas and plenty of kiddos to do some Thanksgiving-y crafts.  It was great.  Great!

Kitty footprints in the snow.
I have the world's best cats.  No kitty litter, no cats on counters or tables.  They're fabulous.  Except for the 5 am Clifford alarm.  He likes to go outside before I'm ready to be awake.

My home.
Heater is currently cranked to 73 and I'm lovin' it.

Our rigs.
The clunker '85 Suburban that makes me feel safe and the Dodge van with the heated leather seats.  Hmm...wonder if I could get my husband to put my van seats into the clunker so I can feel safe and warm!

Coffee.
'nuf said there.

Blue Moon with an orange.
A nice drink at the end of the day.  Best shared with friends but heck, I'll drink alone! 

Books.
While teaching Sugar to read, I realize how I take for granted being able to do so.  I love to read.  I love books.  I love the way they feel in my hands.  I love hardback books.  I love the smell of the pages.

Homeschool.
Teaching/learning in our pjs if we please.  On the couch, at the kitchen table, snuggled in bed, in the car...it's just nice.  Except for when it isn't, but whatev.

Coupons.
I'm sure I'll get the hang of it and it'll be faster than what I've made it out to be.  But I'm pretty stoked that I got 3 boxes of Kellogg's fiber cereal, 2 bags of Hershey's kisses, 2 sticks of deodorant and some Motrin all for $5.99!  It might take a little bit of time but totally worth it to me.

Every day.
Thankful to be healthy.  Breathing.  And able to love on my husband and girls each day.

I'm Thankful

Thanksgiving week is upon us.

I have much, much to be thankful for.

Of all I have to be thankful for, one of the things I'm most thankful to God for are the friends who come to this little part of the internet to read my blog.  Those of you who comment with encouraging words and others who send emails.

Some of you - I've never met.  Some of you I didn't know read my blog until I get an email out of the blue.

Your encouraging words did a number on this heart of mine.

Even after writing my {safe} post I could feel the panic rise.  Maybe it was wrong to keep the blog up?  Maybe my writing and my heart don't convey what I want?  Maybe it's time to be done?

But so quickly you posted or emailed words that I believe the Lord wanted me to hear.

Thank you.

Each and every one of ya.

{safe}

in the middle of the night last night i woke up.

decided to delete my blog.  this time not because i don't feel i measure up as far as writing style, etc.

i no longer feel (felt?) safe to write here.  sometimes i feel judged.

maybe i make it up in my head.  (what don't i make up in my head?)

or maybe there are a few readers who don't comment who are thinking negatively of the stuff i've written.

it makes me heart hurt, my head swim, my stomach tighten and my body sweat.

i take this thing way too seriously.

obviously.

i decided not to delete my blog because at some point i want to have it printed (as in a book for my coffee table, not to sell! hahaha, like it would sell.)  and i can't very well print a blog that doesn't exist.

i did the next thing i could do.  i made it private.

and that hurt my heart, made my head swim, my stomach tightened (might have something to do with the girdle i bought today) and my body sweat (another side affect of the girdle, i hope.)

josh came home for lunch and i talked with him about this.  he asked my reasoning for wanting to delete.

"i don't feel safe.  i don't feel i can write whatever i want.  i don't feel like i can tell people the reason i haven't done dishes all week or why the laundry has been all over the couch for the last few days."

silence on his end.

"i feel like they're going to think i'm crazy."

"everyone is crazy.  just some of us more than others."  he says.  (meaning me)

he tells me that everyone feels the way i do sometimes, just not everyone is willing to admit it.  he says he's sorry i feel i'm being judged.  but that i should just write.

i want to just write.

whether someone behind the screen understands or judges.  it's easy to judge when you haven't been in someone elses shoes (or girdle).  it's easy to judge when it's easy for you to get up and do the next thing. 

but that's just it. 

sometimes i can't just do the next thing.  sometimes i'm frozen.  sometimes i sit in my chair in the living room and stare.  immobilized.  the kitchen tasks are too daunting.  there's too much laundry to fold.  two small children that i'm responsible for but some days i can barely take care of me.

some people have never felt this way and don't understand.

but maybe one of you does.

and that's all that really matters.

so, no privacy settings.  no deleting.  i'm choosing to not filter.

i'm not going to filter my heart.  not the way i've been doing.

i'm going to write.

safe or not.

a look inside a bad homeschool day

she's stubborn.

she knows how to count; knows how to write.

but when i ask her to write the number after 20...

blank stare.

maybe it's just a defiant stare.  most likely it's just a defiant stare.

then she'll write 12.  she knows it's not right.

she erases.

"what's after 20?" i ask her.

"i don't know, 33?"

my blood boils.

i grab her math book.  and my teacher book.

i put them away.

i go to the bathroom and sit.

i can't do this.  it's what everyone who doesn't homeschool says and i agree.

i can't

do this.

i start thinking about the christian school here in town.  she'd be better off there.

we could pull a second mortgage so she could attend.

right?

wrong.

yesterday was a great school day.  the lessons taught, the books put away, the crayons put away and i remember thinking, "today was good. so tomorrow will be bad."

i knew it.

that's how it seems to go.

i fear i won't be able to teach her to read.  i've read that pushing a kid to learn to read doesn't do them any good.  sometimes it's good to wait until they take the initiative.

but it's hard when you have people watching you.  expecting progress.  expecting her to be where a public school kindergartner is.

except she isn't a public schooled kindergartner.  she's schooled at home.  we can go at our own pace.

i just need to remember that.

i know we're going to have these days.  i know they are normal.  but they are so tiring.  so tiring.

so, we'll be done for the day with more than half our school day incomplete.

and people will judge.

yet others will understand.

and tomorrow we will have another good day.

Beyond Random

My dog peed on the carpet today.  Is this grounds for finding him a new home?  six feet under...

We have a couple of places we've been invited to for Thanksgiving (well, I sorta invited myself to one) and I am having a hard time dealing with the pull of family.  One meal would be at my SIL's, the other would be at my dad's brother's house.  It's comfortable with my in-laws.  I know them.  Love them.  Need them.  My dad's side of the family I don't know as well.  But want to.

Maybe we'll stay home and eat McDonald's.

I'm kidding, Denise, I know I'm supposed to bring the water next week!

The girls and I went to the library this morning.  I brought home five books for me and three for the girls.  A Jodi Picoult book, a couple allergy free cookbooks for Spice and two natural remedy books.

I like checking my Starbucks gold card account because it tells me how many months are left until my birthday.  (not like I don't already know the answer to this but still.)

If you're curious to know the answer, it's seven.

Speaking of my birthday - you knew that was coming, right?- I already have plans that I'm making!!

Have I mentioned my husband built me an island in the kitchen?  He did.  You can't see it though.  It's daily covered in school books, mail, color crayons and today, library books.

How did we ever live without this bad girl?

I'm wearing my NKOTB shirt today.

When I was little I was riding on a motorcycle with my stepdad, fell asleep and let go of him.  It woke me up real quick and I had a mini panic attack.

Pretty sure that's when the panic attacks kicked in.

Good thing I head back to counseling in January.  I obviously still have issues.

I've been watching DWTS.  I admit it.  It's the first time I've ever watched it.  Out of the three remaining I want Kyle Massey to win.  He's adorable.  I've voted for Bristol Palin mainly because I have a crush on her partner.  It's okay, my husband knows.  And, while I love Jennifer Grey (nobody puts Baby in a corner) I think she has an unfair advantage because she's a dancer.  But whatev.

Can I retract the last paragraph and pretend I didn't admit to watching that show?

Can we focus on the fact that my 12 year old Golden Retriever peed on my carpet?  Seriously.  I'm so over dogs.  Unless you have a Beagle for sale, I'm not over having a Beagle.

The sky looks like snow is comin'.

The couch looks like two laundry baskets full of six loads of laundry threw up on it.  Prolly 'cause it did.

My van needs a new rack and pinion.  Price-y!  Thankfully I've gotta man who can do it.  Just need the funds.  Maybe someone should go without coffee for a few weeks, eh?

Naaaa.  That's talkin' gibberish.

Beautiful weekend

Amazing weekend.

Friday morning my friend Candee and I jetted out of town (and state!) and headed to our friend Melissa's for the weekend.

After a few twists and turns and yelling at Candee's iPhone, we made it to Melissa's.  Nevermind the fact that I have been to Melissa's THREE times and still can't find her house without directions.

We show up, sit at her dining table with cheese, crackers, delicious calzones and the next thing I know we've been sitting there for three hours.

Friends.

Getting caught up on each other's lives and hearts and everyday activities.  Re-living memories.

And making new.

The result of a weekend with best friends, food and no sleep?

My underwear and yoga pants are now too tight.

I am sleep deprived and have dark circles under my eyes.

My heart is full and overflowing. 

It's been decided that this needs to happen every three or four months. 

Laughter and heart friends are the very best medicine for weary souls.

Thank you, girls, for a weekend I will never forget.

Once upon a time I had a "diet" blog

I've taken up to writing there again.

I'm going to write there a lot.  I'm going to be gut-wrenchingly honest.  I'm going to post my weight.  My food intake.  My struggles.  My successes.  My heart.

Wanna laugh at me?  Join me? 

Feel free.

The Muffin Topless Blog.

The post where all of a sudden I freak out over snow

19.

That's the number of "in draft" posts I have since September 15th.  I have a lot of things I'd like to talk about, obviously.

Either no balls to talk about them or just not enough mmpphh behind the writing, so they sit.

Obviously.

We had a great weekend.  One of the best weekends we've had at home in what seems like aaages.  We got a buncha work done, lots of family time, great conversations, church on Sunday.  It was good.

My heart and/or my mental state (or lack thereof) just aren't feelin' it.  I can't seem to get my heart to come out right in a post.  Or, I completely spew out the fingertips, feelin' fabulous about just getting everything out there but then bail before hitting publish.

I'm lame, dude.

I've been seeing on FB today that people west of us are getting snow.  I can't even deal with the thought of snow.  I hate snow.  It makes me closed in, claustrophobic, freakish.  I hate being cold.  I hate not being able to wear flips and tank tops, even if sweaters hide my muffin top a whole lot better and tennies cover up the sausages I call toes.

Snow makes me want to hide under the covers until April.

I've been trying so hard to prepare myself for winter.  And by prepare myself, I'm talkin' about my brain.  I was mowing the lawn last week and I kept telling myself that this winter was going to be different.  We wouldn't have to hibernate all day every day for five months.  I told myself we would go out and play no matter that our feet and hands would want to fall off within minutes.  I told myself I would still drive the 1.5 miles to Starbucks a few times a week and that I would not slide off the road and into a ditch.

I can't handle it.  I can't handle snow.  I'm panicking and feeling a little bit like I can't breathe.

Part of that maybe because my pants are too tight but mostly I think it's because the sky looks like snow at the moment and I feel like I'm being closed in on.

I'll see ya in a few months.  When the snow has melted.

And when Josh removes the straight jacket.

Quirks

Quirks.  We've all got 'em.  Some of us more than others.  Here are some of my own that I can come up with off the top of my head.

• afraid of front doors
• pop my knuckles constantly
• can share a glass of anything to drink but will never share a glass of milk
• when making out a grocery list there's an ongoing weekly write out of stuff we need, then i write out a rough draft. i then take the rough draft and write out that list based on the layout of the store i'll be shopping at.
• hate hate hate going around curves or corners in a vehicle.  i'm usually white knuckled.  this {slightly} irrational fear was caused over 13 years ago when going around a curve {too fast} up on Mt. Rainier, resulting in the car slamming into a rock wall.  i was a passenger.  i re-live the memory often and maybe i need more counseling...
• i never read the back of a fiction book to see what it's about.  i've found that it often gives away a lot of the story line.
• i'd rather clean 5 toilets than do 15 minutes of dishes.
• i squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom of the tube.
• i always park near a cart return no matter how far away from the store's entry.
• i very rarely drink water.  maybe a glass or two per month.
• taking medication bugs me.  i have no idea why.  when i got out of the hospital from having half my colon removed i was given a prescription of percoset.  i didn't take it.  i didn't take anything.
• during the summer i'd rather have a wrinkled shirt, wind blown hair and sweat dripping down my back than use the a/c in a car.  {thanks, Ma!}
• public restrooms and i don't get along.  i'd rather use an outhouse or a plastic bag than use a restroom where someone is sitting in a stall right next to me.
• corn belongs as a side dish, it does not belong in anything.  gives me the shivers just thinkin' about it.

I'm sure there are plenty more that I have that, I'm either unaware of or am just plain forgetting. 

What quirks are you willing to share?

thoughts

even with nine hours of much needed sleep last night, i can't seem to wrap my mind around any one thing to write about today.

so, here's just some randomness that's going through my head right now.

- debt.  ways out of it are at our fingertips, we've just been lazy.

- hospitality.  we welcomed over 15 people into our home yesterday.  there's nothing josh and i love more than having company.  while we were at jim and emily's this weekend we visited a family from their church who opened their home for food, pumpkin painting and a time of hanging out.  the folks were sweet, genuine and i just felt that they knew they'd been blessed and they wanted to pass those blessings on to everyone who walked in their door.

i pray that my home and my heart show that everyone is welcome as soon as they enter our door.

- sewing.  every once in awhile i just really have an urge to sew.  too bad i don't know how.

- my brother-in-law.  he ran a marathon yesterday.  so stinkin' proud of him. 

- candy.  i bought six bags of candy before our party yesterday.  i don't think more than 10 pieces were eaten.  i may as well rub the snickers and kit kats on my butt and thighs...that's where they'll end up anyway!

- laundry soap.  i splurged and bought tide and downy.  my clothes smell nice.  {when i don't forget to transfer them to the washer immediately}

- tennessee.  always tennessee.

- melissa.  i'll be seeing her in a couple of weeks with candee. love my friends.  i'm also excited that i'll finally be meeting melissa's friend, sarah. 

- change.  i don't think i like it.

- cheesecake.  i made my first one for treena's birthday.  i didn't bake the brownie crust long enough.  fail.

- family.  love all of 'em.

- facebook.  pffft.

- leaves.  wind is blowing.  leaves are falling.  it's beautiful in our yard.  but those leaves are time consuming, dude!

Reasons I'm his biggest fan.

We married very young.  I had just turned 18 and he was 20.

We've had our share of ups and downs.  A big share of each in fact.

He's seen me through the death of my dad and the depths of despair.  He's seen me fail time and time again as a homemaker.  As a wife.  He's seen me through two pregnancies, labors and deliveries.  Holding my hand.  Encouraging me.

He's been by my side through appendicitis and was there the day my doctor told me they removed a malignant tumor along with my appendix.  Then he sat by my side in the hospital for a week after they removed half of my colon.

Josh has been my encourager.  When I'm down, he brushes my hair, rubs my back.  Hugs me.  Then makes me get back up.  He never criticizes the things I do wrong but is the first person to praise me when I do something right.  And we're now at a point we can laugh at the mistakes I made in the early years of our marriage.  Sugar rice, anyone?  (that's a story for another time.)

He thanks me for dinner every night. 

He thanks me for his clean clothes.

(when he has them.)

And, sometimes for no reason at all - other than he just loves me - he'll bring home a coffee for me.

He's a wonderful husband to me.  For me.

But, as wonderful as he is, I often will pick at the things I'd love him to do more of.  Or, sometimes, less of.

I find that I go through these seasons where he's just not "living up" to my expectations.  That's a dangerous place to be, friends.  I don't like it in myself.  I don't like what it does to my heart and I don't like what it does to mine and Josh's relationship, friendship and our marriage.

On Sunday I saw a beautiful side of my husband.  I just loved it.  His passion for his friendships.  I think part of it is that Josh has very few close friends.  Just a couple in fact.

And seeing this in him, I started looking at all the things about him I adore.

I'd like to take some time and share some of them with you.  We may be here awhile.

On Sunday we had some plastic up in our kitchen over the island that Josh is building me.  We'd made a tent of plastic over the island and Josh was inside of it sanding the island. 

We got a call from our friend Mandy.  Her husband, Dale, is the friend Josh has had for years.  They talk cars and grease and cars and, well...more grease.  On Sunday Dale was putting a fence up and was having some issues with his neighbors.  Mandy was very worried about Dale and asked if Josh would be able to come help.  Josh heard some of the conversation, came out from under the plastic tent covered in sawdust and asked to know the full story.

After I told him what was going on, he went outside, brushed himself off, kissed me and left.  There was no hesitation.  There was no, "this is my only day to work on the island, I can't go" attitude.  There was only, "my friend needs me and I'm going."

Joshua is always, always willing to serve.

This morning we met for coffee.  I unloaded one child from a car seat and he unloaded the other.  He took our girls' small hands in his and walked into the store.  He doled out quarters for gum because he can't say no to their pleading faces.

He needed to get to work.

We buckled the girls in their seats.  Doors were shut.  He could have just left.

Instead he asked me to unlock the doors.  He kissed Sugar and told her he loved her.  He went to the other side of the van and did the same with Spice, ruffling up her fine blonde hair.  He kissed me, smiled at me and told me I looked nice today.

He left for work with a smile on his face.

He always does.

Last month he took over 20 hours of his time and spent it at his parent's, doing work for them.  This was hard. 

HARD.  I didn't enjoy having him gone.  I'm often selfish with his time.

He'd work over 8-10 hours at his job and then head to their house and do another 4 hours there every evening.

He was tired.  I was cranky.  He was compensated for his time, which was great and totally unexpected.

After 12 years of marriage I'm slowly learning, rather - relearning something about my husband.

He knows what it means to give his life away to serve others. 

It's something we see his parents do daily.  He's learned by their example and he's choosing to live out his life that way as well.

It's beautiful.

(I'm sorry to the girls I complained to when he was gone so many hours.  Thanks for listening to me vent, though!)

Josh loves Jesus.  He doesn't shout his faith from rooftops but lives it out everyday with his actions.  And actions speak louder than words, do they not?

Even though it's not his number one choice, he serves in our church's nursery with me.  He loves kids.  Other people's babies make him nervous, though.  He doesn't want them to cry.  But he's always down on their level, playing with them, rocking them.  They are always soothed when he holds them.  I love to watch the ones that are just drawn to him and prefer him over me, cracks me up.  And think we should have five more kids because of it!

Kidding on that last one.  Mostly...

During this season of life with our little kids, Josh's hobbies have taken a back burner.  He loves to cycle, shoot guns, ski, rebuild motors and it's just stuff that he doesn't get the time for now.  He never complains about it.  Ever.

We're heading to our friend's house this weekend.  Josh worked 12 hours yesterday, and 11 the day before in hopes that we'll be able to take off most of tomorrow and head there early.

He's a hard worker.

He's a lover.

He tells ridiculous jokes and is the first to say that he only has one good one out of a 100. 

If you need him, he's there.  No matter the day or time.

He's kind and compassionate.

He's devoted.

He's faithful.

And I'm blessed beyond measure.

the post where i don't feel good

josh and i were just talking the other day about how blessed we are that our household rarely gets sick.  we know several families that seem to be ill quite often and, thankfully, it's not the case for this house.

i mean, i get cancer and appendicitis and such but never the flu.  :)

then two weeks ago spice comes down with chickenpox.  no biggie.  she was a trooper.  she got through and has just a coupla more scabs to flake off.

thursday night sugar came down with the pox.  the child we thought was immune, was in fact, not.  we were/are happy she got them.  but boy did she get a severe case of them.  on her gums, on the roof of her mouth, in her throat, on her lips and the rest of her body was covered too.  my tough, rarely complains about much kiddo was miserable.  she's much better today, woke up at 6:15 rip roarin' ready to go.

today i woke up to find that the neighbor's horse had pooped on our porch.  that junk was a sign as to how i was going to feel today.

i done woke up with the flu today.

friends, moms/women can't be sick.  there's too much to be done.  there's still food to cook {gag} bottoms to wipe and lawns to mow.

so, i got the puking out of the way, mowed the lawn with the walk behind mower so that the last mowing of the season would look good and now i'm sitting here trying to get the courage up to make lunch for the kids.  do they really have to eat?  can't they skip a meal?

props to sugar this morning, man.  she knew i wasn't feeling good so she took care of spice, fixing breakfast and keeping her happy and occupied until i dragged my sick rear outta bed.

looking forward to nap time.  i think i may actually try and get some sleep myself.

even though our household is sick, i'm remembering sugar's bible verse of the week, "give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."  1 Thessalonians 5:18

I've been Tagged

Where I'm from, when you say, "I've been tagged," it usually means someone has spray painted your house or your car with gang signs or four-letter words.

I'm glad to say that the tagging that's been done to me does not involve spray paint of any kind, nor did it involve any four-letter words.

Linda tagged me in this post.

To answer her questions:

What is my favorite time of day and why?
Any time my children are sleeping is a fabulous time of day!  Seriously, though, I love morning.  I love my cup of coffee and the anticipation of what the new day will bring.  It usually brings some fussy kids, some dog hair, someone on the dining room table and an overflowing toilet.

What has made me laugh lately?
Admitting that I threw a chair made me laugh, a ridiculous "I can't believe I did that" sorta laugh.  I was nervous to talk about it but my husband encouraged it and said that I can't be the only one feels that way on occasion and that it'd be good for others to read about.  It's been a good while since I've had a real belly laugh.  Thinking next weekend will remedy that.

What was my favorite toy as a kid?
I loved books the most.  But I do remember loving me some Rainbow Brite and I had a Hawaiian Barbie that I named Monique.  She was gorgeous and I wanted to look just like her.  Heck, I still do.

What do I remember about my High School prom?
I remember thinking we shouldn't have spent the money on prom since our wedding was set for about 8 weeks after that but Josh wanted me to be able to go to my high school prom.  I remember the limo was fancy.  I remember my soon-to-be-husband had a cut on the side of his head that made him even HOTTER.  I remember that my best friend and her boyfriend were with us and now I remember that that was probably the last time the four of us were together.

What would you find in my fridge?
2% milk, Almond milk, corn tortillas, cream cheese, salsa, 7 dozen eggs and not nearly enough butter or whipping cream.  Obviously it's time to go grocery shopping!

Which do I like better, hands or feet?
Hands for sure.  Feet creep me out.  And lately I realize I love me some arms too.

What's the craziest thing I've ever done?
Besides getting married and birthin' a coupla kids?  One winter night nearly 7 years ago, my friend Keri and I were bored.  It was late, the Chinese place we always ordered from for delivery was closed and we needed something to do.  She lived about three blocks from a very busy main road.  And I decided we should strip down to our undergarments, put on our tennis shoes and run to that busy road, cross it and play "King of the Mountain" on the snow pile at Red Robin. 

So we did.

She fell through the icy snow at the top of the "mountain" and days later had a bruise all down her thigh.  On our way back home there were cars traveling up the road, so we had to lay down in the parking lot in the frigidness, in our skivvies.

I don't think I've ever laughed harder in my entire life.  Or been so close to being arrested for indecent exposure.  It was really one of the funniest nights of my life.

I'm prolly supposed to pick my own questions and bloggers to tag but it's almost 9 pm and I haven't had any chocolate yet today.  {notice the emphasis on yet}  So, if you'd like to answer these questions, feel free!  Then come back and leave a comment so I can check out your answers!

I gots The Crazies

Growing up in a house full of girls (my mom, two sisters and me) there was a whole lot of estrogen goin' on.

Like, a whole lot.

However, we weren't allowed to use PMS as an excuse for our poor behavior.  I'm pretty sure my mom knew that if she allowed us to wallow in PMS our household would have added chaos to the already dysfunctional status.

So, we hiked up our BGP's* (though they were a lot smaller BGP's for me at that time) and dealt with the horomonal wars that raged in us.

*Big Girl Panties

Honestly, as a teenager and in my early to mid-twenties I really thought the whole horomones and PMS thing was a joke.  I didn't buy into it.  I just did not believe it was a real deal.

Until I had children.  Actually, until I got pregnant with Spice, now age two.

While pregnant with her I noticed that I was moodier.  Angrier.  Quick tempered.  Even more so than my normal self (whatever constitutes as normal for me).

I chalked it up to pregnancy.

But after delivery and two years later, I notice I still get like this.  It hasn't been until the past several months of monitoring my attitude/behavior/feelings that I've pin pointed that it comes at the exact same time every month.

Go figure.

I now believe in horomones.  I now believe in PMS.

What I don't believe is that it can ruin your life and that you can't control how you react to it.

Yesterday was the beginning of what is now known to me as "The Crazies."  Thankfully it is only a couple of days where I feel almost out of control of myself and my emotions. 

There came a point yesterday - and honestly, I can't believe I'm admitting to this - that I got so frustrated and so angry that I threw a chair across my kitchen.  Why?  Because my living room was feeling a little cluttery.  My dishes were not done and it felt a little stuffy in my house.

I didn't know what to do.

I panicked. 

And I threw a chair. 

I have a pretty little scuff mark of blue on my kitchen floor now, too. 

I called Josh.  I told him that when he got home he'd have to take the girls far, far away from the house so I could clean it and gain a moment of sanity.

"Uhh, okay."

Wrong answer, dude.

I wanted him to tell me it was going to be okay.  That he understood (how can he?) and that he would just absolutely love to take the girls for me but that he would actually prefer it if I would light some candles and take a bath and he would clean the house for me.

Are you laughing yet?  Because writing out exactly what I wanted him to say and reading it to myself is making me laugh.

We hung up with him agreeing to take the girls out for a walk when he got home.

I slammed my cell phone shut, threw myself in the my chair and as quickly as I threw myself in the chair I stood back up.

I was not going to let these feelings - this rage - eat me up and ruin a beautiful afternoon.  You know, any more so than the throwing of the chair...

I opened up the windows to let the cool Fall air flow through my house, I took the energy that I normally use to be frustrated and I put into getting my dishes done.

There wasn't any elaborate prayer, but I did say, "God, I just need help."  I was embarrassed at my actions and preferred not to talk to Him about it in that moment.

While doing the dishes I asked the girls to clean the living room.  Piece by piece, toy by toy, they got it clean.  And just in time for me to vacuum.  By the time Josh got home, everything was done.  He still offered to take the girls but instead of wallowing in my ridiculousness, I chose to go with them.

We went to the park and then we went for a walk.  The outing, the air, the talk with Josh about how I feel - it was good.  It lifted the heavy. 

Josh and I talked about some things that I can do ahead of time, when I know these days are coming and these are a few things that I believe will help "The Crazies:"

• have a meal plan for the week with all ingredients for all meals
I find that if just one thing isn't in order - like forgetting an ingredient - I can be sent over the edge. and throw a chair.

• keep the house tidy
For the most part this is easy enough, but I need to make sure I keep the girls picking up their stuff throughout the day so that I'm not overwhelmed come 4:30 that there are toys everywhere.

• pray
Why is it that I find the simplest thing the hardest thing?  Especially when I know how calming it is to my soul?  I really need to pray more, fuss less.

• have praise music playing quietly
I've seen the affects it has on our entire household if I have praise music playing.  It's soothing.  Comforting.  And it's so good to praise God even when it's the last thing we feel like doing.  Really helps take the focus off ourselves.

and the last one...

• recognize that it's just going to be a rougher coupla days and allow myself some grace.
I'm really good at beating myself up for my failings.  And more so during my crazy days.  What I want is to just allow God's grace to penetrate my soul and allow myself to actually accept it. 

A few simple things that will help during my few days of crazy.  Maybe I'm the only one who gets like this and finds these things to be helpful.  Or, maybe you get like this too and didn't even recognize what it was, the way I haven't for so long.

Whatever the case may be, I just want this down on my blog so that I can come back to it when the need arises.

What are some things you do to help keep yourself sane during The Crazies?  Assuming, of course, that I'm not the only one who has 'em.

Lessons from a Kindergartner

Today is not a typical Monday.

But sometimes that's better, right?

My attitude wasn't the greatest waking up this morning {may have something to do with waking up to a certain kitten vomiting in the kitchen.}

The girls were at the top of their naughty game this morning.  Attitudes all around.

9 am and I ask Sugar to sit down with me to start school.  She begins to cry. 

"I hate school!" she yells.  Some disciplinary action followed.

My normally mellow, easy going kid was having "a moment."  I let her go about playing with her sister and decided this was not a battle I really wanted to get into.  With none of our attitudes being what they should be, I didn't want school to be a fight this morning.

I've had an idea floating in my head for awhile and decided that, while I had some free time, I should just put the idea into action.  I grabbed a picture frame, a Sharpie and a couple of pieces of scrapbook paper.  I sat down at the table and put the Sharpie to the paper.

In no time I had two little girls who wanted to sit at the table too.

Sugar asked if they could color. 

I got out blank coloring paper and the crayons and they went to town.  Sugar did some school on her own even though she didn't realize it.  She was writing out her numbers, saying them aloud and showing them to me.

After she was through with her numbers I asked her to draw a picture for me and then tell me the story about the picture.

She sits for a minute and then goes to work.  Finally, she's finished and begins to tell me the story behind the picture.

"There once was a little girl who had no mommy or daddy.  She didn't have brothers or sisters.  And she didn't have aunts or grandmas and grandpas.  She had no friends.  She was lonely."

Exact words.

I found it rather depressing and didn't know what to say. 

"But you know what, Mom?  God was with her.  Even when she was lonely, He was there.  Because He's always with us, right?"

Right.

This five year old.  This Kindergartner.  She's teaching me.  Reminding me. 

Even in some of my loneliest times, He is with me. 

And He's with you, too.

I'm not feelin' this Monday

It's about 8:30 Monday morning.  I very rarely post this early in the morning.  Mostly because I try not to be on the computer until nap time or break/recess time.  Many times I write and set to auto publish, it's nice.  Today, though, we're live!

The girls are {sorta} playing quietly, lesson plans are done {how much planning can there be for Kindergarten?!} and the coffee is asking that I sip 'er slowly.

Facebook - check!

A few blogs - check!

Twitter - check!

Fox News - check!

Email - check!

And now I should log off, shud 'er down and put on a bra and deodorant so we can get this party started!

Instead, I just want to crawl back under the covers of my bed and pretend it's Saturday morning.

Someone wake me when it is Saturday.

A few of my favorite things on this crisp October morn

Pandora

Teaching

Last minute coffee date with Denise.

My husband

Text messages from across the US

My kitchen

Chickenpox baby

My life

Emails from my sister, Erica {just writing that makes me cry - in a happy way.}

Couch cushions, blankets and tunnels strewn in my living room

A card from Treena with a picture of us on the front - she's my Barnabus

Planning my mom's 50th birthday

Dinner and movie nights with my mom and Meg

Friends coming over

Our cats

Talking about a long vacation come Spring {think long drive across US}

New relationship with my God

Thinking about my dad without a sad heart

Thursday cleaning day

Being alive

What are some of your favorite things today?

His Arms

My husband is the most amazing man I know.

Hands down. 

Or, in this case, heads down.

When I first met him I noticed his hands first.  And for a very long time they were my favorite feature of his.  As the years have gone on though, I've realized I'm a huge fan of his arms.

 Look at the veins.  I love the veins.

He's a fabulous daddy.  I mean, seriously amazing.  He is patient with our girls.  He's loving.  And he's fun.

And, when he has to be, he's firm with the girls.  Hence the spoon in the back pocket. 

When the girls hear the '85 Suburban coming up the driveway they yell, as loudly as possible, "Daaadddyyy!!!"  They run out the door and into his arms.  He always has his arms open to them and a smile on his face.  They adore him.  The feeling is mutual.  It's one of my favorite parts of the day.

In my journey to feel with my whole heart that God is my Dad, I picture His arms looking like Josh's. 

Just...bigger.

When I see Josh scoop the girls up, squeeze them tight and love on them, I'm able to get a glimpse as to how much He loves me.  How much He adores me. 

Gives me just one more reason to love my man's arms.