The birthday of all birthdays

The Friday before my birthday my sister and I were to go get matching tattoos.

I was sitting on my sister's front steps waiting for her to show up so we could head off to our appt.

She was tardy.

When she finally showed up, she opened the passenger door and out steps my mother.

Whom I haven't seen since January.

I couldn't believe it.

Just a coupla nights before Josh asked if I missed her.

I told him I did but that the worst part was there was no plan on when I'd be seeing her again.

And that bothered me.

We love having deck parties at our house and it's one of my mom's favorite things to do at our place.

I told her we were having one the day before my birthday and she was sad she couldn't be here.

My step-dad (how weird is that to say?) told her she had to come.

(if I ever doubt that i'm the favorite, i must remember this.)

And so there she was.

And it was like she hadn't been gone all this time.

We bought beer and macaroni and cheese and invited a friend of mine over

and we all hung out outside while Josh built the coolest swing ever.

Early the next morning we went to Starbucks and sat outside.

And I just enjoyed that I had my mama and my baby sister with me.

I also enjoyed that we got 4 semi-trucks to honk at us.

I love Starbucks with my mama and baby sister.  

I just do.

The rest of the day was spent getting stuff ready for the deck party.

Grocery shopping, tidying the house, finishing touches on the new swing.

And lots of laughter.

I bought a new shirt.  And put my hair up.

And I was ready to par-tay!

Megan showed up looking amazing.  Of course.

There was food and friends.  Music and dancing.

Oh, the dancing.

I even got the most amazing present ever.  

During the day I got a text asking for a picture of my bike tattoo.

But I was told not to ask questions.

So I text back with a picture of my tattoo

I get an orange shirt (fave color!) and on it is the outline of my bike, looking just like my tat.

It says, "Ride bikes, drink beer, get awesome."

How cool is THAT?!

Love it.

He's kinda getting favorite friend award.

Of course Amber's gift was amazing as well.

Always good gifts from her.

A Justin Bieber alarm clock because..

who wouldn't wanna wake up to the Beebs every morning?!

There were wheelbarrow races, too.

And the kids went swimming in a pool my husband ingeniously heated for them.

(that's a whole nother post)

And there were S'mores and more dancing.

Then it was time to get up and start the Starbucks routine all over again with my mama and Meg on Sunday.

My BIRTHDAY!

I went to church after coffee time and afterward went home to get ready for more family to come over.

More family.  More presents.

I love presents.

Treena got me a super fun necklace! I haven't taken it off since I first put it on on Sunday.

I'm in love.

I really had the most fabulous birthday.

Surrounded the entire weekend with friends and family.

I'm a blessed girl.

Much love and hugs and thank yous to everyone who made my weekend uh-mazing.

And double loves and hugs and thank yous to Daddy Bill for sending my mama to me.

I kinda like you.

32 and I are gonna be tight.

Hello, Thirty-two.

We're going to be fine friends this year.

This year we're going to enjoy life.

We're going to relax.

Dare I say, we're going to offer ourselves a little more grace?

Yes.  We are.

We're going to let down our curly, frizzy hair and we're going to not be so hard on ourselves.

Thirty-two, we're going to laugh more and probably snort while we do it.

We're going to love harder.

And probably get hurt while we do it.

You and I, Thirty-two, we're going to do more.  We're going to stop being so scared of everything.

Everything = failure.

Thirty-two, are you excited for this?

I know that I am.

I know that I'm ready.

I'm ready to make this my year.

Thirty-two doesn't mean I'll have my shit together.

But it does mean that I can learn from my mistakes.

Offer myself some grace.

Pick myself up, dust myself off.

And try, try again.

I'm still going to forget those clothes in the washer until they've been in for two days.

And have to be re-washed.

I'm going to forget to thaw the hamburger and we'll hafta go out to dinner.

I'll probably buy more Starbucks than I should.

I bet I'll yell at my kids.

And roll my eyes at my husband.

This year I'm going to be intentional.

I want my words and my actions to matter.

And when I screw up my words, and when I screw up my actions, 

I'm not going to berate myself.

Because remember?  This is the year we're easing up on ourselves.

I'm going to accept my crazy self for who I am.

Who I was created to be.

I'm going to quit worrying so much.

I have to.

My life is good and it is full and I really wanna enjoy every minute.

Like, really enjoy.

I think I'm going to like being 32.

Yes I do.

summary

i learned to make tortillas recently.  my friend candee's mom taught me.

i'm enjoying the rainy day.

we recently took an unplanned trip to seattle.  we were gone for 12 hours and it was such a fantastic day there.

i celebrated with my friend sara at her wedding shower yesterday.  i loved being introduced as her twitter friend and having her family laugh at us.  twitter, it's like a dating match up site...but for friends. :)

i bought a new shirt that i love and earrings, too.  i've already lost them.  the earrings, not the shirt.  that would be awkward...

attending a newold church is different.  there are friends there.  it is close by.  i am home by 11.  there's no rush to get out the door.  there's no 40 minute drive.  i'm still not sure how i feel about being there.

josh's grandma broke her hip.  then his grandpa was in the hospital too.  and it's strange.  it's strange because they are getting older.  they are older.  and i can tell it's weighing on my husband.

my mom was in the hospital last week.  and she lives a thousand miles away now so i can't just go help.  i can't just be at her side.

for a girl who likes change, some of it i do not.

my ex-stepdad sent me an email on mother's day.  unexpected and sweet.

i don't like mother's day.  i equate it with valentine's day.  

if not for a handful of people i would delete facebook.  i am so tired of it.  i really am.  it's sad that out of the 306 friends facebook says i have, a handful ruin it.  but a handful keep me there.

sugar said damnit the other day and i thought josh and i were going to die laughing.  she spent time at my aunt's house and picked it up there.  we only say bastard, pissed, crap and the f word here.  so she didn't learn damnit from us.  ;)  i'm kidding on the words we use.

mostly.

i have a stepdad.  i have for like 7 months.  i've never met him.  odd, right?  I KNOW.  one sister has met him.  the other will soon.  i sent him a text along these lines, "and so we save the best for last."  

i ride my bike with the crew on saturdays and josh goes on sundays and we so rarely get to go together.  for years i know he would have loved for me to love cycling as much as he does and now that i do, we have children and we have no babysitter and we have to do this hobby that we love separately.  it's hard.

i'm noticing an impatience in my 6 yr old these days.  she gets it from me.  it's ugly to see the parts of you that need to change coming out of your child.  i want better for her.  i want her to be so much better than me.

josh just called and he can tell something is wrong with me and he asks and i tell him nothing.  he knows me well though.  usually he pesters me til i tell him, right now he didn't.  maybe he's over me.  kiddiiiing.

my friend natalie came to visit last week.  so much fun hanging out with her.

my hair is extremely big and curly today but with no product in it, it's very soft.  

i got my feelings hurt so badly a week and a half ago and i steeled myself to not cry until i got home.  so i waited til i got home and josh saw my face and asked what was wrong and i was a blubbering mess of an idiot.  and he's quick to tell me when i've overreacted and when yes, it's okay to have my feelings hurt.  that was one of those times.  i didn't overreact.  but i cried my bitty heart out.

we refinanced our house. did i mention this already? we started 12.5 yrs ago with a 7.5% interest rate, or maybe it was higher.  then we went to a 5.  and now we've just refi'd at 3.25.  i'm a happy camper.  10 more years and this bad girl is paid off.  and 8 yrs early at that.  sooner if we tried harder.  we'll see...

i was mad at God last week.  honestly i still am.  friends of mine are hurting and i just don't get it.  and i get so mad.  and i just ask why.  why God why.

am i allowed to do that?  well i've done it.

i'm going to go make dinner now and start laundry and make it look like i've done something other than not doing anything all day.

I forgot the ice cream and my house wasn't perfectly clean and that's just really okay.

This has been one of the best weekends I can remember having in a long time.

It seems as the years go on I get more and more comfortable with entertaining.  It's gone from Josh inviting people to our home so I would have to clean it, to me inviting people over but panicking that I wouldn't make the right food or something would go wrong, to me inviting people over and fussing over everything and never allowing anyone to help, to this weekend:

Saturday I had a certain someone's fourth birthday party to get ready for.  Her party was at three.  I rode my bike with friends from 8 until noon, came home, decided it was a good a time as any to make the cupcakes and set out the paper plates, napkins, etc.

Amber showed up early (of course) and she helped me frost the cupcakes.  10 minutes til party time and I realize I don't have candles or ice cream.  Um.  Oops?

We run to the store.  And when we get back to my house everyone had beat us there.  Seven of the eight children and the men were outside at our redneck swingset and soon the 23 of us packed into the living room, singing to a sweet birthday girl.  My sister and Amber dished ice cream and cupcakes.  I mingled.  Made sure everyone was happy.  Enjoyed family.  Friends.

Instead of wanting to open gifts Spice asked to go back outside to play. This is where if I hadn't carried her for nine months and birthed her I'd wonder if she was mine, because hello, birthday = presents.  NOW.

Everyone headed outside where children were pushed ridiculously high on the swing, adults and children raced from one end of the pasture and back, while others played in a freezer box.  It's always the box that's the hit at a party, is it not?

Birthday girl decided it was time for presents and we all headed back in.

Half our guests left around 5 but my sister, BIL, niece, nephew, Trevor, his fabulous wife, Megan, and their boys and Amber and her girls stuck around.  I pulled meatballs out of the freezer earlier in the afternoon in case anyone wanted to stay for dinner.

So, we all worked in the kitchen together getting things prepped.  Josh entertained kids, Trevor made drinks and then he and I peeled potatoes, my sister and Amber and I got meatballs going, Trevor cut up the potatoes for the stove, Megan poured everyone an amazing wine, Amber's girls set the table and we laughed and sang and danced.

And enjoyed the company of friends.

I loved having everyone close by.  Either sitting at the bar and talking or squeezing by one another in the kitchen.  It didn't bother me that I hadn't done all the work ahead of time.  And I realized my friends were enjoying themselves by getting to be a part of dinner making.

This morning I saw Josh's brother and sister-in-law at the gas station after church.  They live about an hour away.  We said goodbye and then I realized, heck, why not invite them over for lunch?!  I told them I was making a new recipe but they were more than welcome to come over to my still messy from yesterday's events home and be my guinea pigs.  And so they did.  And my kitchen was messy from yesterday, my living room too.  I just didn't care.  I just wanted them there.  I just wanted to make them lunch and have fun.

It's taken a whole lotta years for me to realize that having company over doesn't have to be a stressful time, I don't have to do all the work myself, my house does not have to be in tip top shape (heck, I still have a billion areas of my house that are just drywall without mud, tape or paint) and I don't have to remember every last detail.  It's about the food, the laughter and most importantly, the togetherness.

All of that to say, don't wait until you feel like you have the perfect house, the perfect menu, the perfect set up for company.  Your friends, your family - they don't care about that.  They just enjoy being invited over.  They enjoy food.

They enjoy you.

Relax, and enjoy them.

And then she was four

6 months. Still able to be bathed in the sink. 

1.5 yrs old. When we lived in the Peterbilt.

Mama wears this to do dishes, too.

3 yrs old

weeks shy of four. oh you melt this mama heart.

Everyone talks about 'firsts' but today is your last.

Your last day to be three.

I snuggled you tight at bedtime and told you that tomorrow you'd be four.

And you giggled like crazy.

I loved you as a baby.  At one and then two.  You've been a kick at three.  Oh, have you been a kick at three.

And I know you're going to rock being four.

I love you, sweet Alison girl.

Happy Birthday.

love,

mama

Grace? Huh, what?

So I wrote this post yesterday.

And then read this post today.

Thinking maybe I don't give myself enough grace.  Maybe I am too hard on myself.

Maybe I should take baby steps instead of my all or nothing attitude.  You're nodding your head like, "duh" while I'm having a light bulb moment.

Some of us {ahem, me} are slower than others.

I think the best way for me to start being the girl I wanna be is to set small goals.  Weekly, itty bitty goals.

Since it's nearly Friday I do believe I'll wait to set said goals until Sunday.  Then I'll post 'em on Monday.

{and try not to kick myself, offer myself grace on Friday when I don't have them all completed}

Is it easy for you to give yourself grace?  I feel like for me it's easier to offer it to others than myself.

Will 32

i'm 32 days from my 32nd birthday.  i wonder if 32 is my year.  my year to get my shit together.

{pardon}

will i stop being such a screw up?  will i finally get it right?

is this the year i get up at 6 am to feed my husband breakfast?  the year i don't get behind on laundry.  the year i quit losing my temper with my kids?

will i finally keep my rig cleaned?  and always have a well stocked pantry and freezer?

32 means i'm a grown up.  i'll make better financial decisions.  i'll stop buying coffee so often.  i'll do better with josh's paychecks.  yes i will.

this is the year i'll be a better daughter.  a better sister.  a better friend.  i'll stop sucking at those.

and this year my husband will always have clean clothes for work.  i'll know when he needs new shoelaces for his boots and i'll buy them before he even knows he needs them.  he'll never run out of shaving cream and a clean towel will always be waiting for when he's done in the shower.  and when he gets home from work i will not be frazzled but wear a smile and kiss him passionately and ask about his day.

when i turn 32 i'll care about my children's attire and have them dress in clothes that match instead of clothes that do not match.  i will comb their hair and put it in braids and they will look like little girls instead of little ragamuffins.

i will not want to quit homeschooling this year.  i will love it everyday.  and i will be good at it.  and my kids will learn.  and i will stop wanting to wave down the big, yellow bus at 7 am everyday.

is this the year i put others needs ahead of my own?  is this the year i stop being a selfish wretch?

the year i quit thinking about how big my nose is and how my tummy is wrinkly and my clothes are blah.

maybe this year FB, Twitter, my blog, your blog and Pinterest won't matter as much to me.  maybe this year i'll send thank you cards. and Christmas cards.  heck, maybe i'll even send out birthday cards.

32 means i'll read my bible daily and live out my faith, right?  maybe people will actually know i'm a Christian this year, huh?

is this the year to be comfortable in my own skin?

or will 32 be a repeat of my years gone by?  a repeat of who i don't like to be?

8 Takes of my Weekend

1. Friday night was date night.  Kind of last minute plans.  Good plans.  We ate at PF Changs.  I had a coupla Mai Tais and may have gotten tipsy.  I may have also sang Rihanna's S&M at the top of my lungs in the van.  And said, "Go, Team!" to the barista at Starbucks in the drive-thru when we ordered coffee so I could be sober for Target.  Oh, that Target on that Friday night.

He's pretty much a whole lot of hottness.

2.  Date night turned into Date Morning and Josh and I were able to ride with our friends on Saturday morning.  It was a grueling 40 mile ride.  There were times I'd fall off from the pack, they'd have to slow down and wait for me and then times when I'd power through on the hills and be up with the cool kids. I almost puked a coupla times.  I haven't been that worn out from a ride since our 90 miler back in July.  In 9 days I've ridden 135 miles.

Thankful he puts up w/my self-portraits.

3.  Last minute decision to Spring Barrel with my sister and Tracy was a hoot.

we're a good time, this sister and me.

i love that i look tall. for once. thank you, shoes.

yes, i have a sticker on my head. no, that's not our limo.

4.  I got to hold a 3 week old baby.  Oh my womb.  

5. I went to Body Flow yesterday for the first time in two weeks.  Totally sucked.  My abs were like, "haha, SUCKER."  

6.  I rode my bike to Body Flow and while I was on my way there I got "woo hoo'd!!!"  By my sister-in-law.  I'd take that over the creeps who often hang out their window to whistle.  Seriously, guys.  SERIOUSLY.

7.  Oh, Seven.  Or 37, which is my fave number.  After 63.  Hey, I had to throw some random into a weekend post.

8.  I saw several motorcycles at Starbucks yesterday (I stopped there on my bike) and one guy had the nerve to say, "I bet you haven't ridden as far as I have today."  And I said, "I bet you haven't burned as many calories as I have."  To which he had no reply.  TAKE THAT.

the post where i could be snarky but choose not to be

I am feeling so snarky right now.  Which is my way of self-preservation.

I don't even know where to begin and since it probably wouldn't be pretty, I'm going to choose NOT to begin. I'll keep my snark to myself.

Others should follow suit.

It's raining and fabulous.  I opened up a window in my bedroom last night and fell asleep to the sound of rain.  And woke up the very same way.

It's like the rain gets me.  Knows when I need the refreshment.  The soothing.

My hair is hi-lighted and that makes me happy.  I did some painting for my in-laws on Saturday and thought I had gotten paint in my hair.  Nope.  It was just grey hair.  But it's covered now.

Btw:  I prefer "grey" to "gray" in case you were wondering.  And in case you weren't.

I rode my bike to the salon yesterday.

I've put 80 miles on my bike since Saturday and have lost three pounds as a result.  I have a pair of spandex my in-laws bought me for Christmas that are a size XS.  Working my butt off to fit into them.  I mean, I fit into them, I'd just prefer a little less muffin topness going on.

This line was typed.  Then deleted.  Realized it woulda been taken all wrong and well, I've had just about enough of that.

Sugar has a soccer game tonight.  I almost feel bad for the other teams she plays.  Sugar's soccer coach is very serious about soccer and our team wins every time.  By a lot.  Not that I keep score because you aren't supposed to keep score but we do.  We win.  And last week the opposing team's coach called the game at the half and said it was due to rain but I believe it was due to the 13-1 lead we had.  But what do I know?

Looking forward to Saturday.  Looking forward to being able to ride with Josh.  Mostly looking forward to kicking his butt.  He's so much stronger of a rider than I am but he hasn't been out to really ride in awhile so I'm hoping to stand half a chance this weekend.

Josh and I watched some home video of the girls from about three years ago.  Oh my word.  Sugar was making us laugh so hard.  She talks non-stop.  She's always happy.  She's just so her.  Then there's Spice.  Oh, Spice.  She's crying in most of the video we have of her.  She's just so her. :)  There was also video of me.  With an extra 30ish lbs.  Wow.  That was weird to see.  How did I let myself be like that for so long?  It was a miserable five years.

I'm behind on laundry.

We have a long-ish driveway and occasionally Sugar wants to have the car stopped at the bottom and run to the house.  Last night, in the rain, this is what she wanted.  I decided to run with her.  She got a bit of a head start and I never was able to catch up with her.  I'd like to blame it on my flip flops, the rain, my bad knee, and the fact that I kept having to pull up my jeans but what it boils down to is that kid has some wheels.

Okay, it's time to get my day going.  Totally patting myself on the back for keeping my snark to myself.

Happy Thursday, Friends!

the weekend i didn't go camping and the bunny story

I started my morning fairly early and I'm on the phone with Josh and I'm looking out my bedroom window and I see Clifford.  My cat.  Well, the family cat.  And he's out in the garden area and he's being very un-Clifford like and rolling all over the ground.  Clifford doesn't do that.  Then I realize why he's being a moron.

He has a bunny.

So I go traipsing out there in my jammies and my slippers and I inform him that he WILL NOT be harming this baby bunny.  I pick him up and he is pissed.  He's the most laid back cat we've ever owned but right now he's ticked that I am taking him away from his baby bunny.

I haul him back in the house and not two minutes later, Clifford, Ruby (our other cat) and Ace (our Beagle) are all making a bee-line for the bunny.  I grab two cats by the scruffs of their necks and they are hissing and kicking and fur is flying and I'm sure the neighbors are wondering what the crap is going on.  Bunny goes into hiding.  All is well.

Sugar comes in the house and informs me that she has put the bunny in the tree so that Ace will not get it.  I tell her the bunny could die if he hops out of the tree.  And she announces: "Oh, he's already dead."  My smart girl had put on gloves and everything.  I go out and sure enough there's a dead bunny in my tree.

So I put on gloves and I grabbed a shovel and I buried that cute little bunny in my backyard.  I teared up and my six year old is like, "Wow, that's sad.  Can I have a snack?"

That was my morning.

My weekend went like this:

Saturday I got up and headed down to Doc's office where we meet to ride our road bikes.  I went alone because Josh took our girls on a hiking/camping trip.  I rode 30 awesome miles with them.  Doc taught me how to stand while continuing to pedal uphill.  This probably sounds like something that's easy to do but remember, I'm the girl who can't drink from her water bottle and ride at the same time.

So he teaches me how to do this and bam I take off.  They're yelling at me that I'm supposed to maintain my speed not speed up.  Yeah, there's no way I'm going to go slow up a hill if I can go fast.  I'm not wired like that.  In the process of doing the rollers the new way (standing) I sailed through them and didn't vomit the way I've done previously.

And when we were done with our ride I was so pumped I very nearly just kept on riding.  Instead I went home to shower.  In an empty house and that is so very weird to shower without someone opening up the shower curtain and yelling, "Mama!  What's for breakfast?!"  I was able to shave both legs and both armpits.

I went up to my in-laws for a while to do some work for them.  Got so dirty I had to come home and shower again.  And then I got back on my bike for another 20 miles for a total of 50 miles on Saturday!  I asked a friend to ride with me but he wussed out declined.  Maybe because I told him he could ride my back wheel I gave the impression that I was going to kick his butt.  Which I totally woulda.

I rode my bike to my aunt's house in Gview.  This is an aunt on my dad's side of the family.  The side of my family I'm not nearly as comfortable with or know as well but love dearly.  However, I walk in the house then out to the backyard and when I see how many of my family members are out there I walk right back in the house and have a sit down.  Holy lots of family.  I had to take a breather.  Give myself a pep talk and proceed to the backyard.  Where I discussed tattoos, dreadlocks, nose piercings, and giving birth with my cousin.  All things I love.

And then I announced I was riding my bike home and my uncle tried to give me a ride but I said no.  On my way home I get a text from a friend and am invited to sports bar/casino and it's on my way home and a beer sounds fantastic! but I politely decline and I'd like to say I declined because of my attire (biking skirt, tank top, sweaty face) but really it's because I've never been in there and I don't go into places alone that I've never been.  I get this weird anxiety deal and I wish I could explain it but it just boils down to possibly needing more therapy.

Then I went home, showered for a third time.

This entire time I cannot get in touch with my husband because there is no cell service where he is and my mind is going crazy thinking they've been eaten by bears and why oh why did I not just go with them?!

I was asked why I didn't go with them.  I told him there were two reasons.  The first is that after the family camping trip from hell in August, Josh told me I never had to camp again.  I fully intend to hold him to this for the duration of our marriage, however long that may be.  And secondly, I homeschool my kids.  I am here pretty much 24/7.  I am with them allthetime.  They can have 36 hours with their daddy.  It is good for them and it is good for me.

I'm done feeling guilty about that.  Even Josh told me there was no reason for me to feel guilty for not going.

After I explained my reasons my friend understood.

My kids had a blast and they brought home 14 minutes of video for me to watch.  It was adorable and I can't wait to watch it 10 years from now.

I also can't wait to not go camping again.  I'm so good at it.

The mixed emotions of a SAHM {type without deleting: post two}

Last year about this time I wrote a post about not being glamorous.  How I used to have a job I was good at.  A job where I felt adequate.

And then I became a mama.

And now I feel anything but glamorous.  Or adequate.

Maybe it's this time of year that makes me feel like this because I'm feeling it again.  This ants in my pants feeling.

I want a paycheck.  And awards (even if the award says, Most Likely to Provide Comic Relief) and customers and co-workers.  I want someone to see this good hair day.  I want to wear high heels for something other than vacuuming.

I want to not sit here thinking how one (or more) of you are shaking your head at me.  I will post this no matter what.  I will not delete it no matter what.

I know how petty all of this makes me sound.  I know how ungrateful it makes me sound.  But we all have these seasons, right?  Where we're just kinda fed up with life and ourselves?

No?  Just me?

My bad then.

One day last week the weather was decent and school was over and the girls were playing happily outside.  Giggling and chasing each other and finding bugs and getting dirt under their fingernails.  It was 11 am.  "Normal" children would have been in school and not with their mama.  They would have been seated at desks and I would not have heard their laughter.

And I sat there watching them and thinking, "this is the freaking hardest thing I do on a daily basis, but my God, I would not change it.  I would not want any other life than this one I've been afforded."

So yes, I bitch.  I moan and I groan.  And I tell you how I suck at this mom gig.  That is not a gig at all but my life.  I love my life.  I have good days.  I have good weeks.  And I take my kids to the park and I push them on the swing and I kiss owies and I make pancakes and I tousle their hair as I pass by them.

I give out hugs and kisses and I read books.

And I let out a huge sigh of relief when I shut out their light for the night.

I put my bare feet up on my husband's lap and we look at each other and he smiles that knowing smile.  Because the day is done and we made it.  We survived it.  We lived it and loved it.

Even if it was not easy.  Even if there were tears and screaming (and not just from the kids).

And tomorrow a new day will begin.  And what I feel is so mundane may just be mundane, but it's my life and I'm living it.

And I'm having a love/hate relationship with it.

But I am living it.  I won't let it pass me by.  I won't wish it away.  I may let myself dream of it being different on occasion but it's where I am.  Where God has me.

And it's GOOD.

The Ball {type without deleting: post one}

I am not someone who can easily highlight my successes.  Partly because they are so few and far between and partly because it's just not me to say, "yay, me! look what I did awesome!"

However.

I rock at showcasing what I suck at.

Today and many days it's mothering.

I've just sent my children down for naps with tears running down their dirty, little faces.

They were fighting over a stupid ball.  So I did the really mature thing and I opened up the sliding glass door and chucked the ball outside.

There.  Now no one can play with it.

And the tears and the screaming.

Oh the tears.

Over an effing ball.

It's close enough to nap time anyway so I just sent them to bed.  I've taken the easy hard way out.  Easy because I'm not dealing with the situation.  Hard because...I'm not dealing with the situation.

Or the attitudes.

Or their hearts.

Or my attitude.

Or my heart.

Instead, stuff the issue in a bedroom, shut the door and.. and sit here feeling like anyone but me deserves to mother these kiddos.

*this post in an effort to, for one week, type without deleting as i have been double dog dared by my friend, Sara, to do.

wednesday fluff of stuff

left knee is killing me lately during my bike rides.

found a new love via Downton Abbey on Netflix.

having a fantastic school week.

spice is sitting at the table for the two hours of school.  part of last week and all of this week so far.

sugar is learning about King Tut, syllables, pronouns, and addition repetition.

i completed all six items on my to do list monday.  the only time i sat down was when i got on my bike to ride to the gym.

i worked out for three hours straight on monday.

i took a 40 minute nap yesterday.  i never do that.  ever ever.  it felt great.  today i took a 20 minute nap.  what is up?

josh's alarm was set for 3 a.m.

spice wore two different colored flip flops to the grocery store yesterday.  she has a purple pair and a pink pair.  she wanted to wear the purple pair but could only find one.  so instead of just wearing the pink pair she chose one of the pink flips and the single purple.  i love her lack of sense of style.

someone i follow on Twitter posted this yesterday, "what we want isn't always what's best for us."  how true is THAT?

true in my life.

my baby sister will be 26 on saturday.  how did she get to be that old?  i loved 26.  life was simpler.  amazing how a few years can change so much.

but don't take me back to 23.  *shudder*  you couldn't pay me enough to go back to that.  or age 9.  or age 13.

i put my debit card and checkbook on the counter over a week ago to keep me from spending money.  i've had a little cash in my wallet and have used that for a few groceries.

i nearly poked my eye out at dinner last night.  we had dinner at Candee's house and i threw my hand down on a fork and it flew at my face.  i'm really good at making a dork of myself.  so glad she loves me anyway.

sugar asked me today what spring break was and why the neighbors weren't at school.  we aren't doing spring break.  or summer break.

i had a corndog, jojos, a pepsi, fry sauce and a peanut butter snickers for lunch yesterday

my cyclometer on my bike reads 1,100 miles.  Hoping I'll hit 2,000 by the end of summer.

i have a headache today.

i love spring.

yes, it's windy.  yes, it's rainy.  but it's spring.  and spring brings summer.

Slowin' me down

I'm thankful.

For the people in my life who tell me like it is.

Telling me stuff I don't necessarily want to hear but need to hear.

Whether it's my outfit, a character trait, something I've said or something I've done.

Trying to take in the constructive criticism and look at it as constructive instead of hurtful.  Trying not to get defensive and instead reflective.

I'm a recovering people pleaser.  Maybe I'm not in recovery at all.  Maybe I'm still just in people pleasing mode.

Honestly, sometimes I just wanna say screw it to everyone and not care about my words or actions or the things about me that need growth.  I'm such a selfish girl.

Instead, I probably go too far the other way and just worry about offending anyone that I try to please everyone.  And in the end it doesn't matter. 

I still disappoint people.

Ugh, it's not working out for me at all.

So I've decided to try to be a little less impulsive.  With words and actions.  Think things through a little more before I say or do them.  Kinda goes against all of me.  I'm quick to talk.  Quick to say yes over no.  Quick to act.  And so often I regret a lot of what I've said or done but you can't take things back, can you?  At least not without hurting someone usually.

You learn more by listening than you do by talking.  It's time for me to shush up a bit more.  I have much to learn.

Thank you to my friends and family who love me in spite of me.

I've spent my 31 years being pretty impulsive with actions and speech, I don't expect to perfect slowing myself down immediately.  But I am resolving to work on it.  Work on me.

Another move out of my comfort zone

I've been going to the gym for over a year.

I remember in the days leading up to my first time entering those doors, I was sick to my stomach.  So worried people would stare at me.  Laughing at the fat girl.

It wasn't until I'd been there awhile that I realized all these fit men and women may have previously been "the fat girl" or guy.  But, like me, they were doing something about it.  There are some people, like my husband, who are just thin.  Yet he'd be the first to tell you he doesn't feel like he's fit.

I never realized until this last summer that there's a difference between being thin and being fit.  Several years ago when I lost weight before there was no exercise involved.  Just food modification.  At that time in my life I wouldn't have been able to run 7.5 miles without walking the way I did back in May.

So now, after over a year of hard work, getting out of my comfort zone, I am thin.  I'm fit.

And I feel good.

But.

But I realized I'm back in that comfort zone.  I go to Body Flow (tai chi, yoga, pilates) between two and three times per week, I know the peeps in class, I ride my bike but no further than 30 miles, and I've maintained this exact weight since August.

I feel I've gotten into a bit of a rut.

So when my sister asked me to join her at Body Pump a couple of weeks ago I decided to go for it.  Why not.  Some moves, some weights.  I could do that.  Not too much out of my comfort zone but definitely using other muscles.  I liked it.

And then sweet baby sister of mine told me I needed to try Zumba.  Emily's been telling me to try it too.  Easy for these girls to say.  They've got moves.  I've got...nothin'.

Yesterday I decided to go for it.  I mean, why the heck not?

So even though I've been going to the gym for a year, yesterday felt like that first time all over again.  My stomach hurt, I was starting to sweat (and I hadn't even started working out yet!) and panic set in.  What if people made fun of me?  What if I looked like an idiot?

Screw it.

I reminded myself that at least I was doing something.  I coulda been sitting on the couch with my laptop and Oreos.  (oh, like I had been earlier in the day..)

And this is what went on.

Source: Uploaded by user via Bea on Pinterest

I went to Zumba.  I didn't have rhythm.  I looked silly.  But I was there.  Outta my comfort zone.  And I was spending time with my sister.  My sister who can shake it shake it.

All that blabber up there to say - if you aren't happy with where you are physically - do something.  Anything. No one thinks anything of newbies at the gym.  No one is thinking, "look at the fat girl."  No one cares if your shorts are riding up your thighs.

You can do it.  I promise.

Maybe you need this reminder as much as I do tonight

Source: tumblr.com via Sarah on Pinterest

Here, have my boobs. 'Cause I sure don't want 'em.

Disclaimer:

First, if talking about boobs or reading about boobs bothers you, I'd suggest now would be a good time to click the x at the top right.

Second, this isn't a pretty post.  It's open.  And it's pointless really.  I don't want you to get to the end and think, "where was her point?"  There isn't one.  I just saved you five minutes.  You're welcome. 

Third, while part of what I write in this post is flippant, I'm in no way flippant about boobs, cancer, and anything else I happen to write about in this post.  I take all of it very, very seriously.

So.  Here goes.

Back in November I had my yearly exam.  You know the one.  Where you shower and shave and prep like you're going on a first third date.  The exam that all women hate.  (I mean, I think we all hate it, right?)  And while my doc is doing my boob exam (I've mentioned before I hate the boob exam more than the other part of the exam) he tells me that they are fibrous tissue-y boobs.  Mkay.  And then he looks at my chart and sees that I have family history of breast cancer.  And that I myself have had cancer.

And he gives me a little piece o' paper that tells me to go get my breasticles checked out. 

Awesome.

Now someone else gets to touch 'em.

Even more awesome!

So that was November.  

Fast forward to two weeks ago.  I finally went in for that mammogram.  I made the appointment and the guy didn't want to do it.  "Eh, I guess.  You're just so young."

Dude. I had cancer at 26.  Let's get real.

But he scheduled it.  And for the four days before my appointment I was dreading it. 

I'd have to take off my shirt, my bra.  Exposing all my scars.  Those you can see.  

But more importantly, those you cannot.

Exposed.

While I've not had any reason to think they'd find I have cancer of the boobs, I let myself think about the what ifs.

And I know one thing.

I wouldn't be the woman who wanted to keep 'em.  I wouldn't be the woman who was sad she had to have a double mastectomy.

I'd ask where the sign up sheet was and if there was a way I could, pretty please with shooga on top, move to the front of the line?

Here.  Take 'em.  I hate them.  Loathe them.

Loathe.  Them.

Carrying around a part of me that has been an object of unwanted attention (or should it read "affection"?) since the age of nine has often been too much.

Entering high school and for my entire Freshman year had a Senior guy (someone all the girls adored, someone I would have liked to punch in the crotch) stare at them daily as we passed each other in the halls or on campus.  He even went so far as to tell me he thought they were great.  

No.  Seriously.  He said that.  And on more than one occasion.  Lucky me, huh?  The center of his (un)wanted attention.

I was so glad when he graduated.  (Though his younger brother in my class, wasn't much better.)

I don't get the fascination with them.  I don't.  They aren't big.  They aren't small.  They're just...there. 

I understand it's kind of just a guy thing to look.  I get that.  It's how they're wired.  But to stare in such a way that I notice you can't keep your eyes off 'em?  To touch what does not belong to you?

big sigh.

Is there such thing as boob donation? - take these.

So I go in for the mammogram.  I go down the hall, open the door and it's this really peaceful room and the girls smiles at me, hands me a gown and tells me to undress from waist up. Yay my fave. *eye roll*  We go over medical history, talk about my cancer, she wants to see my scar.  

I open up my "cape" as she called it.  She can see several scars. Six 1" scars and one 7" scar.  The one that hurts the most, though, is the one she can't see.

I close my gown.  We talk about how "lucky" I was to have gotten appendicitis so the doctor could find my olive sized malignant tumor.

Yeah.

Luck.

So, there I am in my cape and it's time.

Time to whip the bad girls out.  And I look down at them.  Something I rarely do.  I try not to look in the mirror after a shower or while I get dressed.

I look at them and wonder what the big deal is about 'em.

She takes one latex gloved hand and reaches down by my belly button (they hang a little low these days, what can I say?) to grab one and places it on the little shelf dealio.  I'm barely tall enough for my boob to lay on the thing.  Almost asked for a step stool.  She presses another dealio down on me, clamping me in there.  I kinda felt like I was panini.  Maybe because I was hungry I was thinking of that. 

I was really thankful that the hospital didn't use that moment to run a fire drill.

I can honestly say that woulda been one time I would not want to see men in uniform.

And then it was time to switch sides.  

And then I was done.

"You should have your results in a week."

It's now been two weeks.

So I'm thinking she meant a week per boob.

the end

(see, I told you.  no point to said post.  just a post.)

***I know some women fear getting mammograms.  If you've never had one, let me say this:  It's not that bad.  It's a little uncomfortable, I mean your boob is smashed between two plates, but it's a couple of minutes of your life that could save the rest of your life. I was in and outta that place in approximately 7 minutes.  That includes the time to undress and redress. 

tuesday thoughts...it is tuesday, right?

it's so windy right now.

it's the first day of Spring and I would love to see the sun and flowers and green grass.

and flip flops on my feet.

i made six meals yesterday but have no clue what we're eating for dinner.

i haven't had starbucks since Friday.

i fought with Josh this morning.

rather, he fought with me.

i asked a question and he answered wrong.

it was a bad school morning.

Josh showed up at lunchtime with Starbucks.  I took the drinks out of his hand and jumped on him and thanked him profusely.

he apologized for being naughty this morning.

i forgave him.

we switched rooms with our girls.  now my bedroom is 500 sq ft (you read that right) with a couch.  i most likely will never leave this room again.

i went out with Josh, my sister, Chelsea and her husband to a local bar for burgers and a beer.

or maybe that should read beers and a burger.  since i had more than one beer but not more than one burger.

though i considered it.  i was hungry.

on our way to pick up my sister i realized my dress was too low cut.  so i stripped it off and ripped out the seams and sewed 'er back up.  it was still kinda low but definitely better.

it'd been eight years since i'd been to a bar on St. Patrick's Day.  i have poor memories from that day eight years ago.  amazing that i have any memory of it, really.  but i do.

and it included jello shots (did you know there's liquor in those?  i didn't) it also included being thrown in a pool of green jello (the bar had a girls in bikinis jello wrestling competition that my friends had told me i should participate in.  they'd told me a couple weeks ahead of time to sign up.  i refused.)

but was thrown into the pool of green jello anyway.

jeans.  t-shirt.  shoes.  and all.

and then i left.  and i ran a red light.  and slammed into a dodge ram.

and wrecked my really cute Mitsubishi Lancer.

waaah.

and that is why i never in a bajillion years thought i'd go out on SPD.

but i'm a different girl than i was 8 yrs ago and i can go into a bar and know that jello shots are called shots for a reason and choose to have a beer or three instead and walk out of said bar sober.

it was a fabulous SPD with friends and I was home by 11.

last week, so randomly, i was remembering the look on my dad's face every time he saw me walk into his shop/house.  joy.  pure joy.  every single time.  and i just lost it.  i started the ugly cry.  and typing this out, i'm about to again.  to have someone be so excited to see you, every time they see you - feels amazing.  and it's been almost 13 years since i've felt that.  ugh.

since running the 5K a week and a half ago i have more range of motion in my ankle than i've had since hurting it in October.  it also pops now and hasn't done that since i hurt it.  i think those three miles were good for me.

speaking of running.  my sister and Josh and I are doing Bloomsday this year.  7.5 miles.  i'll probably end up walking it.  how can i run that far!?

for the last two Sundays we've gone to our old church.  mostly because it's 10 minutes away instead of 40 (and saves gas) but partly because our girls are involved in programs there, i go to bible study there, have friends there, etc.  We've gone to our church in Yakima for 6.5 yrs and while we absolutely love the teaching, we've never felt connected.  it's hard to go to any small groups or have friends when everything is 40 minutes away.

i'm not sure what we're doing at this point.  josh really doesn't wanna leave Calvary Chapel (where we attend now) but we really wanna be more plugged in and going to a church that's 10 minutes away, makes that much easier.  we'll see how it goes..

i had a dream last night that i took our dog to the vet and they told me that in order to keep him alive my bill would be 10 grand.  i bawled (apparently subconsciously i like the dude) and told them i couldn't afford to keep him alive and everyone in the waiting room judged me and said that if i truly loved my dog i'd open up a credit card and charge the 10 grand.

i've never been more excited for my alarm to go off than right then.

the most i've ever paid for a vet bill was $800.  ack.

we went for a bike ride on Sunday, using the new seat we bought for Spice to ride in.  it was awkward to have her on there.  i nearly fell several times.  but all in all, it was a rockin' purchase and i know we're going to use the heck out of it.

baby, you can sleep while i drive..err, ride.

sometimes i believe texting is the worst form of communication.

i'm addicted to the app Draw Something.

the end.

Current State of Disaster

This is currently what my kitchen looks like.  Today I have made three batches of tuna noodle casserole, one batch of Pioneer Woman's meatballs, a meatloaf and a lb. of taco meat.

That's six meals folks.

Have I schooled my kids or cleaned the disaster that is my house?  Not so much.

I've come up with what I'm hoping is a good meal/menu system and I wanted bare cupboards and fridge before I do my big shopping venture on Saturday.

Later this week I'll share what said system is and you can all tell me I'm nutso.  

I can handle it.

The double dog dare that ended em all

Have I ever talked to you about mine and Amber's double dog dares?  D3s if you will.

If so, sorry.

If not, still sorry.

It started several years ago when she double dog dared me to call Starbucks (or was it McDonald's?) and ask if they delivered.

And I can't remember them all but the most recent ones are as follows:

Last year about this time we started going to Body Flow together and we developed a bit of a crush on our instructor.  I double dog dared her to friend request him on FB.  He didn't know us at the time.  We were just the girls in the back who slipped out as quickly as possible.  And so she friend requested him and nothing.

Nothing.

And we had to go back to class and she had to face him.  Not that it mattered, he probably had no idea it was the girl in the back row of class that had even sent that request.

He did finally accept the request.  And we now have a fabulous friendship with him at the gym.  Whether he likes it or not, the three of us are great friends and we're much more than the girls in the back row.

Another D3 was when we went shopping in Tri-Cities and decided to go to an adult store.  Amber D3'd me to do a "check in" on Facebook so everyone would know I was there.  I did it.  And tagged her in the post.

Then there was the incident(s) before Christmas when we went shopping.  We went to Wal Mart to pick up her girls' bicycles in the layaway department.  The lady took Amber's info and left to look for the bikes.  While she was away, the phone started ringing.  And ringing.  I D3'd Amber to answer it but it quit ringing.  She thought she was off the hook.

She was wrong.

It started ringing again.  She looks around.  Answers the phone: "Layaway, this is Amber."

we totally rode those bikes thru the store & out the door.

And I busted up.  Couldn't breathe.  Died laughing.

She spent a couple of minutes on the phone with some woman before hanging up on her.  

Later, that night we were at the mall and I was buying a pair of boots at Journey's and the guy selling me the boots had a ponytail.  It was slicked back, short and it just kinda grossed me out.

She dared me to touch it.  And I couldn't do it.  I failed the D3.

Last week I met Amber at the gym for Body Flow.  I rode my bike to the gym.  We were there early (of course) and sat down to wait for our class to open up.  As I stood up to go in the room she reminded me to grab my helmet and we both just looked at it and I knew.

I knew what she was going to make me do.

"Wear it."

And so.  For an hour of yoga I looked like this:

Yep.  I wore my helmet throughout the entire class.

And now she's resigned from D3s.  She won't do anymore.

She says she won.

I say I won.  Hello, who wore the helmet?

5K Round 2

Remember last year about this time I was an idiot and decided to run my first 5K in over 14 years?

So that was me last year before my 5K.  I ran a 31:20.

A few days before this year's race I decided heck, why not?  I haven't run on my still-hurts-cramps-but-working-ankle since October but hey, let's try it out.  Let's try running three miles and see if thee ol' ankle will hold up.

I signed up.  And Josh said he'd run too.

Here we is:

Lucky Number 69 

I ran a 28:55 this year.  Beating last year's time by 2 and a half minutes.  Good but not what I'd had in mind.  Josh says my goal was a little extreme for not having run in six months but whatev.

It was fun to go out and do it again.  I wasn't nervous this time at all.  And it was cool to run with Josh.  Even though the punk coulda run another 5 miles without thinking anything of it.

He says when we're done, "I was watching this other couple run together and they looked like they were having fun.  I don't think you were having fun."

I wasn't.  I realized something while I was running.  I don't really like it.  Go figure.  I would have rather been on my bike for sure.  But I needed to prove to myself that since March of last year my body was in better condition and could move faster.

I proved it to myself.

And now I never have to run again.

Amen.

bad blogger bad wife not cool enough for actual friends bit of cray-zay

blech!

round and round lately.

for nearly a month i've been talking (to myself) about saying goodbye to This Beautiful Mess.  my little spot on the internet.

and then in recent days i've brought it up with a couple of friends and my husband.  i guess he can be considered a friend too.

usually.

anyway.

things in my bloggy land have changed so much in 5.5 years.  those blogs i started reading from the get go are pretty much a no go anymore.  waahh.

no more jeana.  no more emily.  no more cindy.  no more gayle (besides grocery cart gayle).  no more linda.

amy and kelsey and liz and antique mommy are probably the only blogs i'm still reading after these 5.5 yrs.

it's different now.

i'm different now.

they're different now.

when i brought up shuttin' this place down with amber on saturday while we were in ikea she reminded me of why i started this bad girl in the first place.

for my girls.

this space is for them.

these words.  these heart to hearts.  these successes and failures.  these memories.  these pictures.  these joys and heartaches.

all for them.

but i've lost my ooommph for being here.

i've started wanting to write other stuff.  deeper stuff.

well, not deep because hello, you know me, i'm the world's most non-deep, totally shallow, hardly a thinker kinda chick.

i'm talking about memories and thoughts and feelings and stuff that may not really be best expressed on a public blog.

i have draft after draft of stuff that i start.

and then stop.

i must always remember my audience.

friends.

family.

teens.

absolute strangers.

husband's co-workers.

other random men.

last night i was feeling, well knowing...that i'm a sucky wife.  and i had so much to say about it.  and i wanted to spout it off here.  i wanted to come here and let my fingers go crazy releasing what my heart was burdened with.

but there was this stifling feeling.  like, don't say it.  don't you say it.  because what good would come from it? what good is there in such a vent like that?  i wasn't coming here to write that out, post it and have people say that oh, no.  i wasn't that bad of a wife.  i'm too hard on myself.  josh loves me no matter what. yaddiyaddiyaddi.

i was coming here because sometimes this is the only place.  the only place to get it out.  to say that i know.  i know i suck.  don't think for one second that i don't freaking know how bad i am at this thing called wife.

and  i don't tell you all this to have anyone say that i shouldn't shut down my blog.  i've gone private.  i've deleted.  i've neglected.  i've posted daily.  i've done it all here on the blog.  i just wanted to say that if you show up here and my blog is either MIA or private, you didn't miss an invite.  the private would mean for my eyes only.  not anyone else.

i was telling josh last night that it's so weird to have people that i "know" know me.  like really know me.  know me know me.  i said, they know me but i don't know them.  and do they read because they like me or is it for the laugh (at me) and would we be friends in real life?  would they want to hang out with me?  because i don't hang out with a lot of people.  is that because they do know me and i'm someone they just wouldn't wanna hang out with?

yeah.

i started in on my insecurities.

i rock like that.

so i went from feeling like a bad wife to feeling like a freak show everyone wants to read about but never hang out with.

maybe i shouldnta quit those crazy pills so soon, huh?

mhm.

i started this post talking about the good ol' blogging days.  the days of blogging yore.  and went into my bad wife status.  to a freak out of why i have blog readers but not so much friends.

i am one awesome case of amazing random, no?

hey.

at least i finally posted something.