Monday random

I don't know what's happened to my blogging.

I've become a little bored with it.

I haven't read anyone else's posts either.  My reader is over 500 unread posts.

I've been working out.  My treadmill has seen more of me than the clothes I normally hang on it.  That's a good sign.  I was at the gym a few days last week.  Headed there tonight and in the morning for a Pilates/Yoga class.  I'm sure to make an idiot out of myself.

Thank goodness Amber will be there to laugh at me with me. 

My lab results were clear.  I've now been cancer free for 3 years and 11 months.

Maybe one of these days I'll post a picture of my stomach immediately after surgery.  It's kinda gross.  I like it.  But I'm weird like that.

I have a few more days until I can take my iPhone back.  Trying to decide whether or not to keep 'er.  It's been a fun few weeks but I wonder if I'm spending too much time with it.

I just made reservations for my mom and me for Valentine's Day.  I'm kind of a VD hater.  Okay, not hater.  But it's just this day where there's a ton of pressure for men to do fabulous things for the one they love and I don't want to be that girl who expects too much of her husband.  So, I figure it's better to just ask him to babysit our kids while I take my (single) mother out for a nice dinner.

While we're talking about my (single, have I mentioned she's single??) mother.  Anyone know of any single males, 50ish, who knows how to swim that might be interested in a single woman who is ridiculously quirky in a very cute way?  Please email me.  I'm open to an arranged marriage.  Or mail order bride.

I spent the weekend scrapbooking.  Being made fun of for losing my voice (thanks, Chad!) and drinking coffee.  It was fabulous.  I seriously did nothing but eat, scrap and drink coffee.  Well, I went for a wog (walk/jog) alone in the morning on Saturday.  2 miles!  It only took me 30 minutes, but whatev.  I did it.

This cold I have is seriously kicking my butt.  It's bad.  I've taken more meds in the last coupla days than I've taken in my life.  I want to be well.  Need to be well!

I got exciting news today.  I'm a happy girl.

No, I'm not pregnant.

I took the girls to the library last week and had to pay a $22 fine.  Ugh.  That hurts my heart.  And checkbook.

Today I've had water, dried fruit and Starbucks.  I'd like a steak, mashed potatoes and some asparagus for dinner.

I've decided to do the St. Patrick's Day Dash in Seattle.  Yep.  I decided.  Josh wants to do it too.  He'll have to drag me across the finish line but he's okay with it.  It's a little over 3 miles so that's really not bad at all.  But when you're carrying around an extra 30 lbs it makes 3 miles feel like 300.  Maybe by then it won't be 30.  More like 28 or 29.

I'm currently addicted to watching Grey's Anatomy on Netflix Instant Play.  Addicted.

I slept on the couch last night because I coughed all night long.  Didn't want to keep the husband awake.  I choked on a cough drop.

I didn't have to dance into my pants today.  They came outta the dry and buttoned up like a dream. 

Oh, wait.  Those were sweats.  Nevermind.

and i still haven't had any coffee

yesterday was a strange day.

and today?

well, today has just been a bad day.

as i'm thinking about what i'm going to write i realize it's not going to sound all that bad.  but it's been bad.

to me.

my girls are fairly decently behaved when we're in public.  you know, for the most part.  they do have their moments where i want to just leave them at the grocery store but those are few and far between.

today was a day when i wanted to leave them.

we had errands to run.  i normally love to run errands.  when i can wear a tank top, my favorite pair of jeans and some flip flops.

in the winter time i hate errands.  i hate to be cold and i hate going into town and getting in and out of my rig to run all sorts of errands.  i've put off all of the things i did today for several days.

it's sunny outside so i decided today would be my day to run errands.

spice decided she wanted to wear panties instead of a diaper and seeing how she isn't potty trained i didn't really want her to but whatever, i didn't want to fight about it either.

panties it was.

with jammie pants, pink cowboy boots on the wrong feet and a 4T shirt. 

she's two.

sugar wore a somewhat normal outfit.  nothing inside out or on backward and everything was in her size.

out we go.

immediately i forget that spice is wearing panties.

we run up to my in-laws to grab some coupons then off to the library with a bajillion books that are extremely overdue.  $21.90 overdue.

i calculated it and it means i don't get coffee til friday.  if you call or show up anytime from now til then and i'm a little bwitchy, you know why.

the girls pick out several books on whales, tigers, lions and bugs.  i pick out books on pigs, cows and fiction smut.

we head out to the rig with books and kids and a runny nose.  not mine.  the two year old's.  the two year old who doesn't want her hand held to walk to the van.  she can do it herself.

who said she could become independent of me?  who said???

to the post office drive through.  dropped off a check i was supposed to mail out LAST tuesday.  upon leaving the post office i realize i have a lab slip in my purse and the hospital is 2 blocks away.

may as well get my blood drawn to be checked for any cancer that may have decided to come back.

we walk into the hospital, my girls greet everyone they don't know and act like completely unsocialized homeschoolers.

we get to the lab and every seat is full except for a folding chair and i am not a fan of folding chairs.  this might be because i have folded up into one at one time.  i have fears i need to get over.  i'm working on these fears while i run on the treadmill.  if the treadmill doesn't work i'll go back to therapy. 

i sweat just the same.

my girls sat down on the floor next to me without being told.  didn't speak.  didn't move.  they were amazing.

i was so proud.

i used the nifty little "check in" thing on my phone and "checked in" without describing what i was doing at my check in.  causing a raucous.  i will never "check in" to a hospital again without putting it in all caps that I AM FINE, I AM JUST HAVING ROUTINE LABS DONE TO MAKE SURE THE CANCER HASN'T COME BACK.  I felt bad for leaving out that bit of info.  Lesson learned.

as patients were called and left and the room wasn't as crowded my kids decided it was time to play musical chairs.  there was one other woman in the room with us and i'm sure it wasn't a big deal but it was really annoying to me especially when spice would flash me her adorable smile that makes it nearly impossible to discipline her with.

my blood is drawn.  we head out of the lab when spice decides to sit back down in the folding chair.  when i remove her from said chair she begins crying so loudly that i put my hoodie over her face.

in front of people.

but the crying.  it was loud.  i was trying to spare them.  child protective services could be here anytime to pick them up.

i'm ready for 'em.  the girls' bags are packed and sitting by the door.

we leave the hospital with the crying child.  i pull my sleeve up to pull of my cotton ball that's taped to my arm.  and end up seeing someone i try to avoid at all costs.  living in a small town that isn't easy to do but i've managed for a long, long, long time and today that ended.  sigh.

exchange of pleasantries.  and buh-bye.

next up, grocery store where i'm going to use the coupons i got from the in-laws.  children begin misbehaving almost immediately.  i want to leave right away but the sale on the almond milk ends today so i have to stick it out.  i get to the milk aisle and there's a man standing in front of the milk, slumped and in my way.  i'm trying to be patient with the dude.  he has a cane and all but i'm a little annoyed.

i look up and realize the milk is so far back that i can't, in all my 5'2" glory reach the milk.  finally slump guy moves about a half inch.  i ask some random man who doesn't look like he'll try to kill me if he would mind fetching me my milk.  he's close to six foot, i figure he can manage.  he pulls out one half gallon for me (that's all that was left) and he was on his merry way.  it wasn't until he left that i noticed he sported a rattail.  nice.

in the check out i'm still completely stressed, completely flustered over my run in with the person i try to avoid, and completely annoyed with my kids.  problem solver?  chocolate of course.  4 candy bars on the conveyor belt later and we're set.  i forget to use the coupons for my milk and the cashier burns holes through me with her eyeballs.

oops.

get home.  throw food at the girls for lunch.  it's totally past their naptime and spice starts to cry.

"poooottttttyyyy!"

like i said, i fogot she was wearing panties and not a diaper.  any sane mother would have asked her child immediately upon returning home if she needed to go to the bathroom.

not this mom.

this mom forgot.

and ended up having a little girl so sad about wetting her jammie pants.

they are now in bed and i've eaten two of the four chocolate bars.

i'm not proud to admit that but i felt the need to confess.

Day 1: I Survived

Thank you for supporting me and encouraging me in my ridiculous idea of joining a gym.

I didn't show up in a unitard and leg warmers.

Shocked, aren't you?

I sat down with Kathi, the girl who owns the club.  Wife of one of Josh's co-workers.  I've known Kathi as long as I've known Josh.  She was thrilled to know I've finally met my 30's since I just 16 when we first met.

She asked if I'd been doing any workouts on my own.

"Do I look like I've been doing any working out?"

Kathi asked what I was hoping to get rid of.  I pointed to the baby-feeders and she told me good luck with that.  Apparently they aren't going to go away anytime soon.  If I get really skinny and these bad girls still stick around I may fall over face first. 

She showed me around.  I mostly wanted to know where the bathroom was because I was still feeling like I was going to throw up.  It's stress-inducing to me when I'm in a public place with people who are strong, fit, working out, etc.  'Cause I'm none of those.

Amber showed up (after downing some cake) (you're welcome, Amber) and we proceeded to ride on these little bikes for a bit.  My legs hurt, my a.. butt hurt and sweat started dripping down my back.  And that was just in the first 3 minutes.

We moved on to the circuit stuff and honestly I had no idea what I was doing and I'm so short that I kept having to adjust everything but again, didn't know how.  So I have an appointment on Friday to be taken through all the circuit equipment.

Kathi has suggested I do 15 minutes of cardio and do the entire circuit with 12 reps. on each.  I'm going to be there from 8-5 if I do all of them!

I'm pumped.  Still nervous as all get out but pumped.

So pumped that I came home, made greasy tacos but drank water instead of beer or Pepsi with 'em. 

Baby steps.

Unitards and Leg Warmers are not part of my comfort zone

In less than two hours I will begin my first workout of 2011 in a public place.

I'm thinking I might vomit.

Last week after I posted that I was going to get a membership to the gym I'd already thought of reasons why I actually just shouldn't do it.

The club is 20 miles from my house, so that's 40 miles round trip.  Costing me about $6 a trip.  Three times a week and we're looking at nearly 20 smacks a week.  80 smacks a month.

Plus the monthly gym fee.

Except the monthly gym fee is uh, good.  And I really can't pass it up.

So today is the day.  The day I meet with Amber and make a complete and total idiot out of myself in front of other people.  I'm not worried about her seeing me make an idiot of myself.  She's seen me at my finest many times.

This getting out of my comfort zone totally sucks.  I'm hating life at the moment.  Think it'd be bad to throw back a few beers before I head in there?  I'M KIDDING!

mostly...

So, today I sign up at the gym.  Today I'll exercise.  Break a sweat.  And look like a moron.  But before I do, I send Amber a text asking what I should wear.  Her response:

"Spandex unitard.  Leg warmers.  Duh."

At least I'll be looking hot in moron-ness.

the measures i'll take for the sake of blog material

So as not to wake up in the night all freaky like normal, I've decided not to write about anything that I fear people will be offended by, I'll also not write anymore about stuff that makes me look crazy.

I guess this concludes my blog.

Goodbye.

Not really.

In fact, you're about to think I'm crazy and that's totally okay.  What I'm doing, I'm doing for you.  Because I'm selfless like that.

Ladies and gentlemen(man) I've decided to get a gym membership.

Uh huh.  I have.  Last night I sent Amber a text asking if the gym she goes to has kickboxing.  Indeed it does but only one day a week.  She lists off a few other things they have.  One of those things being yoga.  Now, I've heard yoga can be all funky and try to make me find my happy place but if it gets me in better shape and has me touching my toes instead of just my belly button, I'm all for it.

Several years ago (and boy do I mean several) I joined the club that is just a half mile from my house and did some aerobics with my sister-in-law, Denise.  And with aerobics you have to have a sense of rhythm which is not something I was given by God.  I was given a sense of direction, sense of smell, etc. but rhythm is nowhere to be found on my list. 

That aerobics class made me want to gouge out my wrists with a spoon.  It was awful.  I made a huge fool of myself.  And at that time I wasn't as used to it as I am now.  I also didn't have a blog at that time, so there wasn't anyone to share the fun with.  Well, I'm sure Denise got several laughs but at that time she was too nice to me to laugh at my face.  We're older, wiser, closer and we more easily laugh at each other ourselves now.

Back to the gym thing.  Basically the texts back and forth with Amber last night was almost enough of a work out that I don't need the membership.  I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.  Discussing spandex and sweat and bodily functions really made my night.

I warned her ahead of time that anything that happened during any workout would be blog material.  She's tough.  I think she can handle it.

Pretty sure I'm going to make the biggest fool out of myself.  Sad thing is, I'll be paying to make a fool out of myself.

And, it's all so I can come home and blog about the adventures I have.

The things I do for you, my reader friends.

And for my emotional and physical well-being.

Progress

Spoke with Emily on the phone this morning.  She encouraged me to list off the things that Sugar can do now (in January) that she couldn't do in September (when we first started homeschooling.)

Though I don't feel I listed much, what is there is good stuff.

She can count to 100.

She's learning to add.

She can sound out three and some four-letter words.  (when she wants to)

She can count by 10's and is learning to count by 5's.

She knows all the sounds of each letter of the alphabet.

She's learning to tell time.

Before we officially started school she knew all her colors and shapes and could recognize all the letters of the alphabet.

I'm going to stop flipping out about this.  She's learning.  She's progressing.  She's just fine.

We're going to be okay.

You know, at least for right now.  :)

and again

moments of panic in the night.

i really need to quit this. 

in october i finished up a 9 month counseling stint with directions to call at the beginning of the year. 

it's the beginning of the year.

i called yesterday and hung up after one ring.

i can be normal without paying someone.  right?

right?!

and then today she called me.  ha!  she asked how things were.  i said good.

"well, okay then.  the door is always open."

and that was that.

apparently i'm becoming a pro at masking the desperation i'm feeling.

so we hung up and i don't really know what to do.  i wanted to just call her right back and say, "hey, wait! we talked weekly for 9 months and you can't tell when i'm lying?!"

but realized i shouldn't have lied and just told her that i'd really like to come back and rid myself of some of this crazy.

thought about asking if she can prescribe an iv for starbucks and prozac.

i'm willing to fork out big bucks.

instead, i didn't call.  instead i'm trying to decide if i need to get over this crazy on my own.

stop freaking out in the night over posts i've written, comments i've made, status updates i've written.

i think i talk too much.  write too much.  but say too little.

and maybe that doesn't make sense but it does in my whacked out brain.

is it time to read more and write less?  is it time to listen more and speak less?

i should have asked for duct tape for my mouth for christmas and super glue for my fingers so i can't type.

blech.

yes.  i sound crazy.  yes.  i'll wake up in the middle of the night wanting to delete this post.  i'm not going to.  call me crazy.  i'm totally aware.

s'all good.

it's now nearly 6 am.  not even 12 hours later and i have considered deleting this.  eh.  instead i'll edit.

i really liked the comment that JerriLynn left.  normal being a setting on a washing machine and that i need to pray.

last night after i hit publish, i realized i'm trying to handle my life on my own.  that's never ever ever gonna work.  i do need to pray.

my expectations of myself are still too high and when i don't measure up to myself i assume i'm not measuring up to Him.  that i can't come to Him about my "stuff" until i'm just so.

how lame.

often i look to others to make sure i'm doing this whole life thing right.  am i a good mom?  am i a good wife?  daughter?  sister?  friend?  am i doing any of this right??  i'm not alone in wondering that.

at least i don't think.

but that's where my crazy steps in.  i freak out that i'm screwing everyone up.  and that keeps me up at night.

it's time pray more.  panic less.

starting now.

Write, post, delete. Story of my life.

On Saturday morning, in the wee hours, I wrote a post about my new iPhone and how we the people often are more preoccupied with our handheld devices than we are with the people and responsibilities around us.

I wrote about being hurt by such a thing and how I don't want to be the offender now that I have a new fancy shmancy phone.

Some people read it and even commented.

I kinda panicked though.  I don't want anyone thinking I'm pointing fingers.  Because you know the saying that if you're pointing fingers you still have four pointed right back at yourself.  So true in my case.  I admit I've been that person who has ignored those around me while checking texts and emails, etc. 

I've deleted the other post because I don't want to offend anyone.

And I'm just going to say this, I will not be the girl you're with who you feel is more into her phone than she is into you.

The end.

Through the Years

Revised edition.


In June of 1980, three weeks after the eruption of Mt. St. Helens, a little girl is born to a single mama. I am that little girl and my mama was just 19.

In 1981 I would meet my dad for the first time but I would never in my 18 years of knowing him, call him "Dad".

Late Summer of 1983 my mom married my step-dad and he's the man that for the next 12 years (tho' the marriage didn't last that long) I will call "Dad".

In May of 1984, I become a big sister when Erica is born. It will be approximately 22 years before we are friends. Six weeks after she's born, we move from WA to Alta Loma, California. I meet my step-dad's mom and step-dad. My grandmother introduces me to Ritz crackers and peanut butter while watching cartoons in bed. My grandfather introduces me to Chocolate and Peanut Butter ice cream from Baskin Robbins. I believe this is the year that I fell in love with all things chocolate and peanut-buttery. Praise the Lord for 1984.

In 1985 we move to Phoenix, AZ and I start Kindergarten. I remember during a nap that I had a dream my stepdad came home with bandages on his face. When I woke up...he came home and indeed did have bandages on his face. He'd burned himself when a radiator cap busted. 24 years later, it still freaks me out I had a dream about it and it happened. I finish Kindergarten in G*view, WA and meet a boy named Peter. He's the first boy I have a crush on and this crush will last through high school. I fall asleep on the bus almost daily and my mom always has to pick me up from the bus garage.

In 1986 my youngest sister, Megan, is born. We move to Fontana, CA and I start year round 1st grade. For Christmas my biological dad gives me a boy Cabbage Patch doll because I told him I wanted a brother.

In 1987 my sisters and I would live with my grandma and my two young aunts for a couple of months while my mom and stepdad look for work and a home in Seattle, WA. At 7 years old, I watch and fall in love with Dirty Dancing. Though I wasn't old enough to watch it on the big screen then, 20 years later I would be. We move to Seattle, my teacher eats cow tongue and it takes 45 minutes to get to school by bus. My mom has left my step-dad, I finish 2nd grade in G*view, WA. My new crush is Matt S. This crush will last until I meet my husband. I get chicken pox and have to miss my Valentine's Party.

In 1988, I get a Nintendo for my birthday. My sister is bit by a dog. And I start third grade at the same school I attended for second grade! It's the first time I have a best friend. Her name is Rachel C.

In 1989 we move to Selah. In 4th grade I have to do a report on Hamsters and present it to the class. My first time public speaking made me sick. It wouldn't be the last time I get sick before public speaking. This is the year my dad starts sending me flowers for Valentine's Day. And also the year he will join in the force that cleaned up the Exxon Valdez oil spill in Alaska. And for my 9th birthday he sends me Moose Slippers.

While shopping with my mother in Shop-Ko, we separate so I can buy her a gift. I have to go potty and can't find a restroom. I wet my pants. Since it's winter of 1990, my jeans steam off the car's seat when we get home. This will be laughed about til 2011. For a few months of fifth grade we move back to G*view but then return to Selah. My fifth grade teacher is my first male teacher. In a drawing at the end of the school year I win the prize of taking home the class gerbils. This thrills my mother to no end...

I stay in Selah until a month into my 7th grade year when, in 1992, I make the decision to move back to G*view and live with my grandma for a couple of months. I end up finishing out 7th grade in Selah, I win a prize for the best colored picture. I win a Pepsi and a Snickers bar. Still one of the best contests I've ever won.

From 92-94 we move four times. We move out of our apt. into and then out of the fifth wheel, into the Icky House and then back to G*view for my high school career. It's 1994 and it's the year that will change my life.

Summer of 1994 we start going to church, I give my heart to Jesus on a school bus. I have a crush on a boy named PeeWee. And I make friends with three girls who will be my best friends even 17 years later.

In 1995 my best friend, Lindsey and I attend a soccer game. Before the game starts a boy named Trevor asks me out. I have my first real boyfriend. I join Cross Country. Our church gets a new Youth Pastor. Trevor and I break up. I start dating a boy named Eric who is well over 6' tall and I decide then that the man I marry must be tall. But it won't be Eric. We break up.

One Sunday night in October of 1996 while attending evening service at our church I meet the cutest boy I've ever seen in my life. He's wearing a Cross Country shirt that's tucked into his Lee jeans, running shoes and he's sporting a flat top. I don't know his name but I tell Lindsey, "he looks like a Josh and I'm going to marry him." I'm 16 years old. We're introduced in November and start dating shortly after our introduction. I fall head over heels. He's 5'8" and doesn't really like me. We date though for a few months then he breaks up with me. I'm completely devastated and have decided life is not worth living.

Josh comes around to my way of thinking in May and we get back together. Half way through my Senior year of High School, we're engaged in December of 1997.

One month after my 18th birthday we get married. Josh buys me my first car, an '82 Honda Civic hatchback and a grey cat we name Roger. To thank him, I'm the worst wife ever. I don't cook or clean. I don't do laundry and we spend a lot of time and money eating out and going to the movies. I beg him for a baby, he says no but I gain 30 lbs anyway. 1998 was a tough year.

To celebrate our first anniversary we head to DisneyLand and Sea World and while we're there my mom calls with the news my dad has drown. We fly back immediately. 1999 is even tougher. We buy a house, I'm 19 and Josh is 21. For Valentine's Day Josh buys me a Beagle. And I'm sure it's to pacify my desire for a baby.

Over the course of the next several years, I'm still overweight, a bad wife and bad keeper of my home. We start a lawn mowing business and I decide to lose weight using the Weigh Down Diet. This is successful and I lose 35 lbs.

In June of 2003 Josh quits his job and starts driving a Peterbilt around the Northwest. He's gone 5 days a week. I get my first real job as a barista in an espresso stand in town and make friends with a girl named Keri. She's single with no kids and I think her life is perfect. I've lost all focus on Jesus and my marriage. My life is falling apart around me.

In 2004 I apply at Pier 1 imports even though they "aren't hiring" and am given a job within the week based on my nice handwriting. I fall in love with sales and am actually good at this. I'm promoted to Assistant Manager within a few months. I can now support myself. My husband and I separate and file for divorce. I live on my own for the first time in my life and I've never been more miserable. Josh and I still talk on the phone occasionally. One night we make the decision to make our marriage work. I move in with Lindsey and her husband for a few weeks. Then in with my mother for a couple of weeks. And then back home. I recommit my life to Jesus and my heart to my husband. I quit working at Pier 1.

In 2005 Josh quits driving truck. I learn what it means to be a keeper of the home. My house is clean most days. I cook more than we eat out and the highlight of my life is the day I give birth to the most amazing little girl. We start attending a new church.

Life is going great. My marriage and my little girl are wonderful. I start blogging. I don't have many friends who live near me. That changes in October of 2006 when I get a MySpace account and reconnect with my friend Amber from high school. We become inseparable.  Have acronyms for everything.  Enjoy car rides singing at the top of our lungs.  And I torture her with mushrooms when she comes over for dinner.

Last day of February 2007, Josh and I go out to dinner. We come home and I have the worst stomach pain I've ever had. At 1 in the morning we decide to go to the ER. It's confirmed I have appendicitis. I have an appendectomy and go home the next day. A week later I go in for a follow up and am told that when my appendix was removed so was a malignant tumor. 4 days later I have another surgery removing half my colon and 41 lymphnodes and leaving me with a 6" scar down my belly. The rest of 2007 is great. Amber and I fulfill our lifelong dream of seeing Dirty Dancing on the big screen. We drive 400 miles round trip to watch Johnny get Baby out of the corner. Josh and I hem and haw and decide in July we'll try for another baby. I get pregnant in August.

In April of 2008 our Beagle dies. Our "first born" and we realize how much we loved her in spite of her driving us insane. Exactly one month later in May of 2008 I give birth to another baby girl. And she cries for the next 2.5 years of her life. We'll never hem and haw about having another baby. November of 2008 Amber and I fulfill another dream and see New Kids on the Block in concert 3 hours away from home (and my baby), I use a breast pump that is hooked to jumper cables outside of my van. It's quite memorable and totally worth the embarrassment and any picture she may have taken. 

In April of 2009 my husband quits his very steady 7-5 Mon-Fri job and we load up as a family and drive around in a Peterbilt 5 days a week. People think we're nuts but support us anyway. I find creative uses for plastic bags, blog about it and still have friends. 

In May of 2009 due to illness in the family, my mom and my sister's three children move into my home.  It's one of the hardest times in all our lives.  In July my best friend and I break up.  I'm devastated.  My mom and the kids move out.  In the fall the girls and I start staying home more than we go in the truck.  Truck life is hard.  Hard.

In February 2010 Josh and I have a talk about his job.  I can't stand him being gone.  He can't stand being away from home.  He's offered a job back at his previous place of employment with an awesome, tailored for him position.  Rock.on.  I'm still best friend-less, now sister-less too.  I'm spiraling into a state of depression and a friend recommends I seek counseling.  It's the best advice I've ever been given. 

Through counseling I finally, after 11 years, recognize the need to grieve the loss of my dad.  It's miserable and it's hard and it's the best thing I've ever done.  Counseling taught me that my expectations of myself and those around me are too high.  Changing perspective brought back relationships in my life.  One day in July of 2010 I read a blog post that opens my eyes.  Basically saying if there's anyone you need to say something to, say it.  I immediately email my best friend.  And after over a year of not seeing one another we meet for lunch.  I'm shaking I'm so nervous and excited.  It's been a few months and I think we've reached our new normal.  I never want to be without her in my life again.

In September 2010 I begin homeschooling my five year old.  It's awful, we hate it most days.  It's fabulous, we love it most days.  Such a love/hate deal going on.

In November we hem and haw about another baby even though we said we'd never hem and haw about it again.  We pray about it.  Decide to "try" and we fail.  We're both relieved.

2011 is here and I say, bring it.

originally published in oct. 09

Bad Wife

I'm starting 2011 off with a bang.

I've never claimed to be a good wife.

Not ever.

Because I don't believe that I am.

I'm better than I used to be but I still suck.

More than I care to admit.

My husband is skiing today with Emily's husband.  I love that he has Jim to go and do guy stuff with on occasion but skiing freaks me out lately.

A friend of ours was killed in a skiing accident nearly two years ago and just a few days ago I read about a 20-something kid and a 5 yr old little girl dying in a skiing accident.

I don't like the sport.

Sure I've done it and one time I even had fun.

But now, mostly I'm just scared of it.

Some of the last words I said to my husband in 2010 were that I was preparing myself mentally for him not coming home today.

Who says that?!?

Apparently I do.

Ugh.

It was true though.  I laid there thinking about what I'd do without him.  Blank thoughts.  I don't know what I'd do without the man.  I can't do without him.

It's after 4 pm.  I haven't heard from him.  I'm sure he's safe and sound and happy to be hanging out with someone who doesn't have hormone issues.

In the meantime, I'm praying for his quick, safe return.

Mostly so he can take these crazy kids off my hands, I need a nap.  Well, and so I can apologize for my ridiculous behavior last night, too.