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.

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!