And the Walls Came Tumblin' Down...

Ugh. If it's not one thing it's another around here.

I simply can not keep up with the deficit of home improvements that we've gotten behind on around here.

I had totally planned to start remodeling my kitchen (as soon as I finish the downstairs bath. If I ever finish the downstairs bath). It's ugly. Real ugly.

But in my massive frantic attempt to try and get my house to look like....well....a nice house....if was trying to scrub our old, faded shower surround back to white (not going to happen) and noticed something. Something bad. The shower surround is not quite bug enough. And the edges of the wall near the shower that get damp every time someone showers...well, they've started rotting away.

What the crap am I supposed to do about that? Well, I know what I'm supposed to do...I'm supposed to fix it. But WHEN am I supposed to do that? I can't even finish the bathroom I am working on! I spend an hour scraping dried grout off the shower floor tiles (I'm sure I've ranted about that somewhere.....but if I haven't let me just say, PLEASE, if you're going to tile anything, start wiping the grout off right away. Do not wait. It's bad.) until I had blisters all over my hands. It's getting there...but it's a very slow, frustrating project.

And I can't rip one bathroom up until I have the other completely functional.

Meanwhile, the wall slowly continues rotting away.

So I'm trying not to completely lose it....trying NOT to think about the boiler that needs replaced, the shingles that have blown off the roof. The gutters that need cleaned (and repaired). The window in the basement that is broken. The floors that are scratched and nicked. The yard that needs mown, the gardens that need weeded, the basement that is leaky, the paint that needs touched up in almost EVERY room, the gas log that won't work, and the fact that every single closet is a disaster that needs cleaned and re-organized.

Today, I'm just going to try and concentrate on removing the coupon that Celia shellacked to the floor with milk last week (so everyone will stop walking in the door and trying to pick it up. Don't you think if I could pick it up, I would?)...scrape some more grout, and try and complete the 40 or so reports that I'm already behind on this week.

My Life - Soundtrack by the Beatles.

Okay, I know with the volume of Beatles music, really, ANYONE could create a soundtrack to their life. But since my kids are so into it (that and freaking Rhinocerous Taps...and if I have to listen to that crappy cd one more time I'm going to drive off the overpass. Not really, but I hate that cd)....and we listen to the Beatles a lot........and I tend to be introspective while driving the car....there you have it. My life, by the Beatles.

So a few weeks ago it was Lady Madonna.....today was Help.

Which is kind of odd...because I had a pretty good day. Busy, but alright.

But we were out of the house all morning. Shopping (but not spending much money) and having an all around good time. I was really dreading coming home though.

The house is trashed. I just can't keep up with being a mom to my kids, driving Jordan to all his various things, shopping for the family, my new job, getting myself to the doctor, and keeping the house clean. So if something's got to go undone...it's the house.

Hey, I figure the laundry and toys will still be here tomorrow. And my kids don't seem to mind the clutter...

Anyway....Help is a very good song for that kind of thing. Because I remember (when I was younger so much younger than today) having one kid, who happened to be in school all day. Only having to vacuum once a week. To clean the kitchen once a day. To do laundry every week in a half.

It's not that the little one is so messy (well, I mean, she kind of is) but while I'm busy chasing her and cleaning up after her and trying to figure out where she put my glasses.....I can't...umm....gently remind....the boys to clean up their crap.

It's a mess around here...and I hate it.

So HELP, I need somebody, help, not just anybody. Help, you know I need someone....HELP!

Squatting in the Parking Lot

Something in your life really changes when you start carrying an extra pair of someone else's panties in your purse....just in case.

No, my toddler hasn't started taking Alli. But when you have a newly potty trained toddler, you don't leave home without an extra pair. Let me tell you why...

My little girl has an aiming problem. She can sit all ladylike on the potty and shoot pee straight out onto the floor... (oh, the google hits those words will bring....go away you nasty pervs. There's nothing here for you here).

So we're at a really awesome church function, and the girl's gotta go. So we go.

I take her to the ladies room. I cover the automatic flush sensor with paper before she goes near the potty, because no one likes it to flush while they're sitting there. Especially my anti-loud-flush toddler.

We cram ourselves into the teeny tiny stall and she gets settled and starts to go.

The pee immediately shoots straight out, right at me. I squeal and jump out of the way, she screams and falls in the toilet.

That's right, my little sweetie in the toilet.

So she's screaming because her butt is in the toilet, there pee on the floor, pee on her skirt (thankfully, no pee in the toilet where her butt it).

I'm trying to tell her it's okay, it's going to be okay, while trying to get her out of the toilet.

Which is when I realize I left my purse (along with that emergency change of clothing) in the sanctuary. In the front of the sanctuary.

So I pulled her little skirt back on (because I had nothing else to do) and she duck walked back to the front of the sanctuary to get the dry clothes, then back to the bathroom to put them on.

Then we had a discussion about how she needed to finish peeing. No WAY was she going near that toilet. She tried to convince me that she'd just hold it until we got home. Well, I knew that wasn't going to happen.

So we came to a compromise...

I took her out the in the parking lot and we hid between a Suburban and a mini-van so she could finish the job.

I've got to get a travel potty.

One Schexy Mama

So, a few months ago I'm at the dentist. The sweet little hygienist is fawning over my teeth, how she can tell I floss a lot, blah, blah, blah, she's praising me and I love it. Then my very nice dentist comes in and echos the praises over my dental health.....then he says "hmmm".

You know it's not good when they say that.

"Rebecca, do you grind your teeth when you sleep?"

Erm, how should I know? I'm asleep.

Then he starts to ask about jaw pain and headaches.....yeah. Now that you mention it.....and when I wake up in the morning, my mouth does tend to ache a little.

He recommended I get a night guard. A mouth piece.

No way. Absolutely no way man! You can just forget it. I mean, retainers are for high school kids.....married women do not put appliances in their mouths at night (shut up). They just don't.

So I tried to forget it. I figure I didn't used to do that...it just started one day. And one day it will stop again.

Then I start noticing that I really clench my jaw when I'm awake too! Without realizing I'm doing it! Until it starts to hurt......then I mentally smack myself and tell myself to knock it off. The weird thing is, when I notice it most....when I'm chopping things in the kitchen. Weird.

Well, I finally got tired of waking up with a headache and having my jaw feel all tense and tired in the morning. Plus, we ran out of Motrin.

So on my weekly trip to Target LOOK WHAT I GOT.

So now I'm one schexy mama. In a very Sid the Sloth kind of way.

I tried it out last night...but I only wore it half the night. I don't sleep well with a big piece of plastic in my mouth. Plus, sometimes my husband snores. He'll stop if I tell him to....but poking and kicking do nothing. So last night after a fitful few hours of sleep he woke me with his snoring. I kicked and poked to no avail, then finally took the thing out, told him to stop snoring, and I went to sleep.

I'll try it again tonight.

Hubby is okay with the whole thing. I think he actually likes it. See, now he has if figured out that if I put the thing in my mouth, he might as well roll over and go to sleep. If I turn out the lights first, he can try and put the moves on me.

It's his little get lucky indicator.

I promise to wait at least another month before grossing you out with info like that again!

"Nobody touches King Bobo!"

This is what Celia says as she glowers out from underneath some fake foam bugs she stuck on her face....and has pretty much the theme of the day.

I hate to say this, but I hope she's still sick and that's why she's acting this way....because if she thinks this is just how it's going to be from now on, she's got another thing coming to her. Am I a horrible mother to hope my kid is sick?

Anyway, in between squabbles and quarrels and shrieks of indignation, I'm try to get some work done. This is how everything gets so messy. I get time only to complete tasks in bits and pieces until everything is a jumble of half finished work.

Plus the Hubby and I had an almost comical discussion because I prefer that he not refer to me as "the boss" to his friends and almost in the same breath tell me that "If I want to go golf saturday then I'm just going to go" like some kind of petulant child. I really don't need anymore petulant children to deal with. Two is plenty, thank you.

Bottom line is, if you are going to say things that hurt me more, just leave me be. Seriously. Now the pain of being the big meanie to both our kids AND everyone else we know is entirely diminished by the fact that I'm also viewed as the big meanie by my husband who has an open dread of spending the rest of his life with me.

And you know, if you'd just left me alone like I asked you to I would have probably forgotten all about the original insult in the first place by now.

Am I allowed to stick foam bugs on my face and mutter "Nobody touches Kind Bobo" at anyone who comes near? I really think that would make me feel better.

Click on by, Boys!

That's right. There's nothing to see here, and I'm getting ready to talk about all things womanly, so here's your warning to find something else to read.


Go ahead, shoo....

Are they gone yet?

Good. So here's my big joyful news......my period came early this month!

Now let me tell you why this is such great news for me and every single person that I come into contact with on a daily basis.....

For the past (at least) four months I've been terribly hormonal. It's been bad. Real bad. And to top it off, usually when I get super stressed my period refuses to come like it's supposed to. And while I'm stressed out because of something really wacky going on with my hormones, it refuses to come and each and every day that passes is worse and worse than the one before.....until I start to get worried that I might kill a person if it doesn't come. And finally it will. A week late ....or like last month a very torturous nine days!

So lately that's how my cycle has been. I'll finally get it and have two days of residual hormones and anger. Then it's like the tide changing, like that fast. I wake up on the 3rd day and everything is okay again. I feel good about the world. That lasts for about a week. Then the nosedive starts. And let me just tell you that three to four weeks of nosediving is a long way down.

Mostly it's the hormones.....I'm a mess. Crying over EVERYTHING, just seething with anger about absolutely nothing for weeks at a time. But the headaches suck as well. Just waking up with a headache every day is enough to make you want to crawl back in bed (especially when you know no amount of Motrin is going to make it go away)!


But this month....no nosedive! It's been almost like waiting for the other shoe to drop. I had my good week, then I started last week. Which could have been bad because I was REAL busy. But it was okay. I don't think I even really cried once! Then this morning, surprise.

Well I'll take it. I will gladly trade my monthly hormonal rage for a few more periods a year. Someone print out the contract, because I'm ready to sign on the dotted line for this one!




Chris, I know you're probably reading this thinking "Hey, what about that 'I don't feel you're being very supportive' discussion there other night"? Sorry buddy, no hormones there. I didn't even cry much, did I? That was all real and can't be blamed on anything like cycles or hormones....just life circumstance. But I do feel much more supported now after you took care of some of the huge pile of crap I didn't know how to do around the house. Thank you. And yes, I did eat all that ice cream. Eat some more soy food, will ya?

What kind of death wish do you have?

Dear neighbors across the street,

I have put up with a lot. I really have. The late night arguments in the yard (I only called the cops that one time because I thought you'd hurt yourselves driving off all angry and crying like that), the beer cans and cigarettes you leave littering my yard, the standing on the street and cursing during the day (when my innocent little kids can hear your dirty mouths). I try and pay it no mind, because I know that you are teenagers. You are living in a world that you think no one else sees and you can't fathom anyone else having a life. One day you'll realize how silly you've acted and regret it. So I just let it slide.

Especially for the boys over there...I know you can be polite and thoughtful, because sometimes you are.

Granted, I have no love for the foul-mouthed little girlfriend. End it already buddy, she's not worth it.

I often wonder about the mom, and why she lets her kids act that way...but I don't judge because I just don't know what's going on over there.

But today, as we pulled up to the house at nap time with our sleeping toddler in the car, and you decided to set off a string of fireworks, you almost died.

Seriously. You just don't mess with nap time. No matter how young and carefree you are. You don't wake a sleeping baby. It's like the 14th commandment or something.

Chris immediately reminded me how no matter how hard it is, you are supposed to love THE OTHERS (a take of from Chestnut Ridge's current sermon series about how other people ...ie, not yourself, can be so darned hard to love sometimes).

I really think the whole "love thy neighbor as thyself" scripture should exempt noisy, inconsiderate teenagers...but since it's in the Bible and all....

So alright. I will not kill you. But the next time you set off fireworks in the street while I'm trying to get my sleeping baby out of the car and into the house, I will (in Christian love) give you a very stern (in your face) talking to.

Be warned.

The Vacation is Over!

I've had a bit of an extended visit since my mom has been in visiting for the past few days. I knew we'd be busy, so I planned on not doing laundry or major housework. It was nice!

But yesterday Celia and I drove her back to the airport so now my vacation is over. Back to the everyday business of life.

Yesterday was a pretty great end to the vacation though. Celia was really good on the two hour drive to Pittsburgh. We left early enough to go to IKEA....a twice a year visit to a store I love! I got a lot of nice new things that I've been waiting for, and I didn't spend very much money.

We also had time to swing into Target. They put out their new Dollar Spot items and in it were the cheapy bubble wands that I've been looking for since Easter! Celia and I were thrilled. It's just a round plastic flower on the end of a long stick, but perfect for toddlers. And we only had one. Now we have plenty! That pretty much made my day. She also found a many tentacled ball that she asked for. I usually don't buy my kids stuff when we're out shopping (they usually don't ask either) but the look of desire on her face was so great (and the ball was only $1) that I got it. She loves it. And despite the stink of new plastic, I think it's pretty cool too. I am going to have to pick on up for Jordan though, because he loves it too.

We got Mom to the airport then started home. Celia slept the whole way to I got to sing along to Rent (my very favorite musical.....not kid friendly though, so I rarely get to listen). Then we came home to get out the new baby pool my mom got for Celia, which was loads of fun for everyone.

Unfortunately, here's where my day went to crap....Hubby has decided that he and a work pal want to buy a house to rent out. Which would be great...you know, if we had any money and could take care of the house WE live in. He mentioned it Friday....but I didn't think he was serious so just left it alone after stating my "I don't think that's a good idea right now" opinion. Well....they are having lunch with a mortgage broker today. Our discussion over that did NOT go well. I think I'm being a realist....he thinks I'm being overly negative and mean.

Whatever. I'm currently clinging to the hope that no sane banker would give them money, as I know we certainly have NOTHING for a down payment (we're still reeling from that $800 gas bill and braces!).

I'm also really busy today, so hopefully I won't have much time to worry about it.

If it's not One Thing, It's Another.

I swear. It's impossible to get anything done around here!

After hosing out a basement rug, I made my mid-afternoon cup of tea. I got out the cream and big clumps fall into my tea.

Ack. I just drank that this morning! After a few brief moments of hysteria I realize it's not rotten cream (after all, it's CoffeeMate. Which is non-dairy...non....everything. I don't know what that stuff is...but it sure is good in tea!) it's frozen cream.

Something is going very wrong with our fridge. I've been noticing normal things (like the ice tea) getting some ice in them, so I've been turning the temp down. As of this morning, it was on 1. That's as low as it can go and still be on. When I got my frozen cream out, it was still cooling. I turned it off, then back on....and it stopped cooling. Hopefully it will start up again when it needs to.

That fridge is not very old either. Maybe 6 years? Worthless junk. I have a chest freezer in the basement that is at LEAST 40 years old. It works great. I guess they just don't make things like they used to.

We also had another impromptu project this weekend. The bathroom fan part of the fan/light fixture in the upstairs bathroom (the only usable one for just a few more weeks!) burnt up. We were afraid the motor might still be working and it could start a fire.

So off we went to Lowes to pick up a new one. I was a little excited, because I've secretly always hated that ugly thing. Chris wasn't so excited. He knew that he's be installing the thing since I don't deal with electricity. Plus I'm too short for overhead work.

We make our way to the "Bathroom Light and Fan" aisle and Jordan commenced pushing ALL the buttons and giving his opinion on which sounds best. The baby was amused. Chris and I then had to argue over a fan.

He wanted one just like the fugly thing we were taking out of there. There most basic model costs $36, but was no use to us since it was a low flow fan. That window has no window, so the fan is the only ventilation. The next fugly model was $56. The very nice modern fixture I was eying up cost $88. Chris said there was no way he was spending that much money on a bathroom light, we would get the fugly one. I said that there was no way I was wasting almost $60 on something that looks like it had been pulled out of a double wide when for $30 more we could have something that looked decent. He saw reason in that statement and we got the nice one. Understated and modern. Not trailer trash.

Later in the evening I took the kids out in the yard to garden and he got to work. 90 minutes later (after only one consultation from me!) we had a very nice, new, working bathroom light and fan. And three gouges in the vinyl floor. Chris has no clue how those got there. They definitely did NOT get there when he threw the old fixture to the floor in a manly display of anger when he finally wrestled it from the ceiling.

In any case, I'll be shopping for some new bathroom rugs this week. I'm going to re-do that bathroom in jungle frogs for the kids(mostly because the Frog Pod that I can't stop thinking abot!), so I'm thinking Lily Pad rugs. The search is on!

I Hate the WESTEST!

I'm not fond of standardized testing by any means....but I do see a purpose in things like the ACTs, SATs, those kind of college prep tests.

I seriously hate the WESTEST though.

First off, my kid stopped learning anything new as of the end of March. That's where the WV school year effectively ends now. From that point on, everything it "reviewing for the WESTEST". No new stories are read, no new vocabulary words, no new math applications, nothing.

Plus, I feel like they really rush through some concepts (uh, like fractions!) in order to finish learning everything early. I mean, the WV CSO's are designed for a 9 month school year. If you squeeze them all into 6 months, then you're going to rush through something. That's if you don't miss almost the entire month of February due to City water problems.

Lastly, when this test is over on Thursday, my kid is done. No matter that school isn't over until June 11 or something like that.....the WESTEST is over, so there will be no more learning this year! This last month of school, traditionally spend on an end of the year review so that kids retain knowledge for next year.....nope, it's break time baby! Recover from the WESTEST time! We really don't give a crap if they actually learn it or retain the knowledge, just that they meet AYP (Adequate Yearly Progress) on the WESTEST.

So they start reviewing in April. They re-arrange the class schedule so that they have big block of review time. They hold assemblies and pep rallies to tell the kids how important the WESTEST is (ie, stress them the crap out!) I mean, it does go on your PERMANENT RECORD. It stays with your the REST OF YOUR LIFE!

Students are told to be in bed BY 8:00 each night (okay, no biggie, his bedtime is usually 9:00). To get up early and eat a healthy breakfast (not that crappy cereal your mom gives you on regular days...and I thought Life was healthy...). To wear school colors every day to encourage everyone to do their best (like mornings aren't crazy enough without finding out at 8:10 that my kid needs a yellow shirt). To take their time on the test (first on done gets detention).

From a teacher's perspective, I still hate this stinking test. They whole school year revolves around it. A teacher's success is found in not how well they teach or inspire their students, but how well they teach to a test. How well they teach kids to TAKE a test. And frankly, by the quality of kids in your classroom.

You can read all the inspirational books you want. Watch Lean on Me a million times. But there are still going to be kids that don't give a crap. They won't participate in even the most fun assignments. They won't complete classwork even if you do it together. You can forget about homework. And tests, they are just random fill in the dot coloring pages. If they even take the time to do it at all.

I'm not talking about kids with learning disabilities. I'm talking about plain old lazy, I don't care about school kids. They get younger and younger each year. And don't bother talking to a parent about it, because YOU are the teacher, it's YOUR job to teach them. Not the parent's fault if they won't complete home work. I mean, parents can barely control them the 6 or so hours they are at home, now they are supposed to care what's going on when they aren't at home. Not very likely!

If we want to talk about kids with learning disabilities, let's talk about how they are hurt by our "New and Improved" educational system. There are NO levels of classes any more. Everyone is lumped together in one class. You know, so they can receive a fair and equal education. Except, I don't think we're looking at this the right way. Sure, every student is given the EXACT same experience. But I don't view that as fair OR equal. Because some kids require more attention from a teacher to learn certain things. Which is easier to do in a classroom with 10 kids than it is in a classroom with 32. This goes for students with learning disabilities, gifted students who need more advanced work, and completely normal, nothing different about them at all students who just need some extra help in one subject or another.

So now we put them all in the same room. We have your Special Education (we call them Title One here in WV) teachers come into the classroom and assist the classroom teachers. Sounds great, right?

Two reasons why this doesn't work. First, there aren't enough Title One Teachers. They rotate between classrooms, teaching a class here and there. It works okay up to the 4th grade (when kids are with the same teacher all day) but after that, they rotate classes. Since there is not a Title One teacher in every classroom all of the time, there are often students who need extra help who go through the whole day without a single class where there is extra help. That's the way the cookie crumbles.

The other reason is scheduling. Not only are there not enough teachers to go around, but these teachers are expected to team teach with the classroom teacher. Only due to the schedule, they don't have the same planning period. Plus the Title One Teacher has to teach in 6 different classrooms throughout the day. 6 different teachers to collaborate with. Can you see how this doesn't work? It ends up being 45 minutes of the classroom teacher teaching math, then 45 of the Title One teacher teaching math (because we now have 90 minute blocks of math and reading, but the Title One teachers rotate in 45 minutes intervals so that they can get to more kids.

So take any kid (with a learning disability or one who is just struggling in general) stick them in a classroom with 32 other kids, throw in a handful of behavior problems (read, kids who have never been disciplined in their life and aren't about to start behaving now!) for 6 months. Then give them a huge, hyped up, standardized test. Show me how No Child gets Left Behind.

Now, my kid will do fine on the WESTEST. He's a smart kid. Reads well above level (which is a huge part of the test). Does okay on math. He's a good test taker. He'd do a heck of a lot better if it were not for our education system just about giving him an ulcer over it.

Who Am I?

I swear I don't even know anymore.

A woman on the verge of some kind of breakdown, that's for sure.

Why? I have no freaking clue.

I just seem to have lost all identity of self. And where so I have this epiphany? In the middle of freaking Walmart!

You'd think I would be happy. Out of the house, without the kids, on some invented just for the purpose of taking a shower and leaving the house errand.

But no, instead I feel like some out of place alien being out in public without at least one child to attend to. See, when I have my kids out in public, I'm their mom. MOM....the one in charge. The one in control. She's handling everything, keeping everyone happy and behaving.

Without them I'm just some lady walking around Walmart telling herself to act normal.

In Walmart. Have you checked out the other people who are shopping in Walmart after 9 at night? I'm telling my self to act normal so THESE people won't think I'm weird? I don't even know these people....they certainly don't know me and I'm sure that they could care less that my makeup doesn't look good or my clothes are too snug because I'm getting chubby or that in my own head I'm chanting "BE NORMAL" so I don't break down and cry in the middle of Walmart for my lack of purpose in life.

When the heck did this happen?

Was is because I quit teaching?

I don't think so. I mean, I don't miss it. I'm not really in a hurry to go back. I just had a conversation with a friend today about how I'm glad I'm not teaching middle school anymore because so many parents are screwing up their kids and there's not a lot a public educator can do about it. So I'm very glad not to have that stress in my life right now. Plus I know I could not bear to leave my sweet baby girl to go back to work....and I know I want to be home every day to greet my exuberant boy as he rushes in the door from school.

Was it because we left the old church and started looking for something new?

I don't think that's it either. I mean, I was already on the fast road to a breakdown there anyway....just for different reasons. I didn't agree with a lot of the theology and we were just overwhelmed with responsibility, with no support to back us up. I'm kind of sad because it has effected my relationship with my best friend a little. We still talk every day....but I guess I didn't realize that both of us have been so busy in the past 9 months with home and church that the only times we've spent together WAS at church. And I miss spending that time with her. And since I'm not Miss. Popularity I don't really have any other friends....so I've been spending a lot of time just home alone with the kids. I'm becoming a regular agoraphobic hermit.

So that's part of it. I just don't have a lot of other adult interaction. I'm forgetting how to act among grown ups. And I feel completely out of place with them, like I just don't belong.

On the bright side, Hubby has informed me that sometime in June he will be able to take a day off work (to make up for his weeks of travel and inaccessibility) and spend it with me. Hopefully I can stave of complete meltdown until then.

All I ask is that if you're going to take odds on when and where I'll lose it, please send me a cut of your profits to pay the medical bills.

Social Outcast

Have you ever had a dream so horrible that when you wake up, you feel like people looking at you must just know all about it?

I woke up this morning (after a mostly sleepless night anyway since Celia woke up a million times) from terrible dream. I still can't wear my contacts because my eyes are so dry and irritated. I got out of the shower and could barely squeeze into my jeans (due to the large amount of peanut m&m's I've been consuming in a feeble attempt to ease my emotional distress). Thank God for stretch denim and tunic shirts. My hair was also not cooperative.

Anyway, I somehow managed to get both kids out of the house fed, dressed, and with all necessary supplies for the day at 8:30 in the morning just so I could go to MOPS.....a messy haired, sleep deprived, bespectacled, my-butt-is-too-big-for-these-jeans, attempt to be a normal person for a few hours.

If the other mommies noticed, at least they were nice enough to say anything....but I spent the whole morning feeling like a complete social outcast.

This afternoon I just drag through the useless drudge of house cleaning and feel like a completely inadequate mom. Celia can't sleep either and has pretty much deteriorated into walking around the house crying for her dad (just like she did most of last night). Frankly, there's not a damn thing I can do to make her feel better. So we're just going to watch cartoons and cry until soccer practice...where I get to slip into the skin of a normal person once again and she gets to go play with a friend.

As a consolation, my therapist insists that I'm quite rational, sane, and normal. I'm thinking I should really have her write that one down next week.

Don't Face Facts, Face Faith.

This was one of Pastor Crabtree's points from his sermon this morning. It really spoke to me.

The sermon itself was about running the race of faith, using Hebrews 12 as a focal point. Basically, know that there will be hardship in your life. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that becoming a Christian makes your life all sunshine and roses. Nowhere does it promise endless health until the day you die. Being a Christian doesn't mean you are handed a "get out of hardship free" card.

In our search for a new church, this is something I'm very happy to hear. I've been in churches before where it is preached how God hates cancer, he hates suffering. If you just pray hard enough, if you are faithful enough, then you will be healed. I don't buy it. I just don't. God doesn't just hand out hardship as a punishment. (Not saying that doesn't happen, but it is certainly not always the case). There is a reason for everything. Sometimes it's clear what that reason is. I'm sure you've seen someone of great faith struggle in body with a disease, though their heart never wavers from their faith...and by being a visual example of faith, others are led to believe. Sometimes it's not clear. Tragic things happen every day for which no man can see a reason. But it's there........

Some times hardship is a discipline. Not necessarily a "you've been a bad boy, get to your room" discipline.....much as an athlete much be disciplined to hone their skills. They must work hard every day, avoid food or drink that will harm their body or take away from it's performance. It's hard, but they aren't being punished. They are being trained for the race they have coming up.

It's a pretty clear parallel. Sin is what we've got to avoid...it's harmful to our soul. The hardship is a form of conditioning...of training. It gets us in shape for our race of faith.

Also, the alter call was very laid back today. I like that. I know as far as alter calls go your can't make everyone happy all of the time. Some people like to see an alter call every single week. I mean the big, "If you want to accept Christ in your life you've got to stand up RIGHT NOW and walk down here in the front, in front of all these people looking at you, DO IT" type of alter call (often followed by the call for all followers to stand and come forward if "You want to receive the blessings Christ has for you or something that you feel like you have to stand for because, hey, who doesn't want that.....but you also feel like a sheep just following along with the crowd when it happens week after week with no conviction from anyone. my apologies on this run-on aside).

Anyway, it was pretty much, "If you are ready to take this step of faith with us, please come up here after service. We have some alter workers who would love to speak with you. If you're a follower and you are feeling discouraged, like a runner in need of hydration, please come down and we have some people to pray with you." Very laid back. No pressure, just a we're here with open arms kind of call. I like it.

Sometimes I feel like the big pressure type of alter call is exclusionary. I worry that maybe someone was sitting there, feeling called to Christ. That they prayed and confessed. And they just can't stand up in from of all these strangers shout out that they did it. I don't think that they need to (some people need to....I think the call to Christ is different for everyone). And I worry that then they'll start to feel "Hey, maybe I'm not really a Christian. I mean, I prayed that prayer, and I felt it in my heart.....but I just couldn't stand up and walk down there. Maybe this really isn't for me. I know lots of people will argue with me about it and say that standing up is the least someone can do.....but I'm thinking baby steps here. Some people need that.

I, for one, would never be able to do that. I mean, I was raised a Christian, so it's not like I need to accept Him...he's always been a part of my life. But I know there are other quiet, non-demonstrative people life me out there.

Soooooo.....how this whole sermon pertains to me. Well, the word "discouraged" came up about a zillion times. And I think if there's one word that can truly describe how I've been feeling lately that would be it. Very discouraged. In fact, if I hadn't had to rush off to the childcare room to get Celia (she got upset last week when mommies started arriving and she couldn't see hers, so I wanted to be early), I may have very well gone forward.....just to have someone else pray with me...which is something I rarely do. I'm talking once before in my whole life...while I was in the midst of awful, debilitating morning sickness. A very sweet woman held my head and prayed with me...in the teacher's break room at the school where I worked. And it did help....I went from laying there just unable to move from being so sick and not getting any nutrition for week to being able to drag my butt through the rest of my day....which is sometimes all you can ask for.

Also, for the past month or so when I've been distinctly miserable, as I pour out my heart to one of my closest friends, the theme of my argument has been, "I just need to face the facts that this is how it's just going to be. I need to become accustomed to the fact that this is how it's going to be forever and learn to live with it. I knew good and well that just because hubby became family oriented for a year before and a few years after the wedding that really he's a fickle work-a-holic, who becomes obsessed with one project after another. Everyone once in awhile I will be that obsession, but for the most part it's something else and he becomes completely emotionally (and occasionally proximally) distant and unavailable. The sooner I accept that fact and get on with my life, the better for us all."

She (my friend) is not the least bit happy with that argument. She always has a suggestion, some of them I'll try, some I'm just to discouraged to see the point of them and don't bother wasting time with. This is why I always say how strong she is, and how much faith she has....it's just always there. So I'm going to try this week...to not bog myself down with those "facts" and have faith that it will change and get better (even though I can't fathom how, when, or why).

And I'm going to tackle the sin thing. It's got to be anger....because I really did think and I really did examine myself, and that's all I can find. So that has to be it. The hard part it, most of it's in my head. I'm not walking around kicking people in the leg, flipping people off on the interstate, or screaming at cashiers. Most of it is just the constant, angry diatribe that plays over and over in my own head.....disguising itself as rationality. Just the past week I've really starting being short with the kids and not having patience, so that's one outward thing I can work on....but the rest is all inside. So how do you tell the thoughts in our own head to "SHUT UP"?

Neighbors...

...can't live next to them, can't afford to move to my own private island.

Okay, so we've owned this house for 10 years and not had any real problems with neighbors until now, so I don't really have much to gripe about.

Oh, we've had some little problems...teenagers from across the street being too loud at night. I did have call the cops once on their little domestic showdown in the front yard at 2 AM, but they were sufficiently frightened and have straightened up since then.

Most of the other people on our street are elderly and very nice. They have their moments (blaming us for actions of all stray cats, simply because we have cats) but since they are usually pretty nice I overlook that. Plus they are old and I feel they've earned the right to be crabby.

We have new neighbors across the alley from our backyard. I mentioned them once before and I'm still not sure about them.

Tuesday the little boy came and knocked on the door, wanting to know if he could come in and play with Jordan. I sent him away as we're potty training Celia and she was running around buck naked at the time. Plus I was really crabby (surprise!) and didn't want another kid in the house.

Ten minutes later the doorbell rings again. I go to answer the door and find another little boy, standing on my porch in shorts and a t-shirt (it was less than 50 degrees out) and his hand in his pants.

That's right. He had his hand in his pants.

Not like way down in there digging around some perverted way or anything....but his fingers were completely covered by waistband.

Plus he was only about 10...I don't think he was a pervert.

So I opened the door and asked, "Can I help you?" (Doh! Why did I say THAT? I certainly don't want to help!)

He replies, "I came to talk to you about one of your sons. He was messin' with my dog."

I respond (straining myself to NOT look at the hand) "Well, I only have one son, and he's standing right there (Jordan was being nibby and just about falling over himself to see who was here). He's been in the house since he came home from school. I can assure you he wasn't messing with your dog."

We then proceeded to discuss the phantom boy in a yellow toboggan that his sister had seen messin' with the dog for several minutes. He was polite and apologetic, but the whole the his hand stayed IN HIS PANTS!

Anyway, I briefly considered that the first little boy may have been the culprit, even though he wasn't wearing a yellow hat. But since I'm not exactly sure what "messin' with my dog" entails, I didn't rat the little guy out.

I mean, he does seem like an okay kid. And these tho kids live right next to each other. The kid with the dog...well I know I don't like them as I heard his family swearing at each other with they moved in last month. And that freaking dog does bark ALL of the time. So "messin' with the dog" may have been nothing more than the first kid walking through his own yard, yelling at the dog to shut up.

I don't know, and I'm staying out of it.

So yesterday, we had guitar. In my rush to get Jordan, his guitar, my panty clad toddler, everyone's snack, my tea, purse, and pile of ECB into the car I didn't get the big door shut all the way (we have a storm door that was closed). This happens pretty frequently (shhh, I know, I know, I need to lock the door. I know. Stop lecturing me.)

Chris beat us home by just a few minutes and found the nice (but persistent and irritating) little boy on our porch. We spent quite a few minutes wondering whether the kid had wandered through the house looking for us.

I hope he didn't. But I will be locking the door now. Just in case, you know?

Anyway, our big triumph of the week....Celia is wearing panties!

She's going really well staying dry...but she is still scared to poop in the potty. So she gets up early in the morning to poop (she still sleeps in diapers) on the sly. Whatever, she's wearing panties all day now.

It's another one of those bittersweet milestones. That cute little diaper butt was about all the "baby" she had left in her. She is very verbal and talks like a child. She runs like a child. She's got pretty hair like a big girl (or Goldilocks, which is what she thinks). She's not my baby anymore. It's breaking my heart.

Sniffle Sniff.

Well, I finally caught the cold that has been making it's rounds through everyone I know. I'm really hoping that it doesn't turn into some kind of antibiotic requiring infection. It's not looking good though as my ears are all stuffy and crackly. How ironic is that...I've never had an ear infection (to my knowledge) before this year. I already had a monsterous one in December....I'd rather not do it again.

Plus Chris leaves for Vegas tomorrow morning. Which means any visit to a doctor will likely come with chasing my toddler around the quick care center...as task that is quite likey to make me not go at all.

I have a ton of things I really ought to be doing today....but I'd much rather lay on the couch with my box of tissues and a book. I will probably guilt myself into getting moving shortly and working on the bathroom a little.

It doesn't help that even after my breakdown saturday night Chris really has only done the bare minimum around here. I told him that after the past 6 weeks I just don't know how I can get through one more week alone, that I'm completely overwhelmed, stressed out, and just over all miserable...and I was pretty much dismissed with a pat on the head and a half-hearted "Oh, you'll be fine" before he disappeared back to the void of our basement. Nothing like complete emotional detachment to prepare you for a week of being alone while your spouse lives it up in Vegas.

My therapist recommended that I plan something outside the house every day next week so I have a little adult interaction. I think I'm taking the kids to a bike rodeo on Saturday, and I think we should have a MOPS meeting thursday...so that's something.

I need to figure out a church to go to sunday morning....and now I need to figure out something for Wednesday night. I decided after last night debacle that we would now being going back to the old church.

There hasn't been a teacher for the boy's class for the past two weeks. Last night my friend took them and taught them....but she already is responsible for making sure there are volunteers for the little kid's rooms on sunday morning (more than half the time the schedule workers just don't show up). She's also had an increasing role on the praise team since Chris and I left....so now she didn't her her one chance to actually sit in church (with her husband, who also does much of the media stuff) for our marriage class. She's stressed out, and I'm stressed out for her. I mean, there's nothing I can do about it...I tried talking to the leadership when I was an active member and on the praise team and that didn't do any good....so it's certainly not going to do any good for me to say something now. Anyway, we left the church because it was sucking the life out of me. I can't keep going every week (because as I've mentioned before, the marriage class is doing crap for us when I'm the only one going to it) at watch it sucking the life from my best friend. She's a big girl (and a much stronger, more kind, and faithful woman than I) and will take care of it herself.

Anyway, Jordan is a little social glutton and loves being with a group of boys on wednesday night....so I feel like I have to find something to replace that with.

Celia has lost all patience with mommy typing away on the computer, so I'm going to go and let her climb, jump and waller all over me. I'll be back to rant about my neighbors ('cause that's the kind of mood I'm in today) and share out potty training success.

Random Letters

Dear Celia,

Please poo in the potty. I know you like the potty. You pee in it all the time. It's not scary to poo there as well. I promise if you would just poo in the potty I would find you some awesome Diego panties. Also, if you could refrain from coloring on the walls, the tables, and the cats, that would be great too.


Dear Middle School Administrators,

If you have to have students working in the office, please teach them that "Uuuuuuuh Ummmmm" is not an appropriate response to any question. If this is too advanced for them, please send them back to English class. Also, if you could teach them how to work the phones before setting them loose on the public, hanging up or randomly transferring calls to the home ec room, that would be nice too.

Dear Chris,

Please stop sleeping in Celia's bed. You are enabling her bad sleeping habits. She will never sleep through the night alone if she knows you will come sleep with her. It makes it really hard for me when you are out of town. Plus, you are too big for her bed. You totally trash the covers. Instead of a 10 second flip the covers back up that I like to do, I have to take everything off and remake the whole darn thing. I know it only takes about 90 more seconds....but it's really putting a cramp in my morning.

Dear bacon and chocolate,

Please either stop tasting so good or being so bad for me. You are making me fat. Thanks.

So much to blog....

...and so little time to do it. But here we go!

I did make it to church yesterday with the kids. Not as relaxing as I had hoped....Celia was having a shy day and didn't want to go in the children's room. We went to Trinity Assembly of God, and I got to hear Pastor Crabtree speak for the first time.

I did enjoy his sermon, but I think my favorite part was the strength of his personal conviction. He was speaking about the importance of the Gospel, how if we could all just live it more, the world would be a better place. As he spoke I could see that he was deeply bothered by some of the social injustices around us today. I have a lot of respect for that: someone who is bother by something wrong...even if it doesn't affect them directly. Maybe because I spend a lot of my time bothered by random things that I can't change....I guess it moved me to see a man who was bothered in the same way (stereotypical, I know. but women tend to be the "fixers" a lot of the time)

I did not maim Chris in any way after he dropped tortillas on the floor and left them for me to clean up. MY tortillas. My specials "reward for not having a breakdown this week" Chilli's tortillas. If you've never had Chilli's tortillas, you need to. They are seriously good. And you don't even have to go there to eat them, you can just pick them up to go.

I spent the morning out at the old church helping my friend organize the childcare rooms. Our girls got a chance to play together and I think both of the rooms look much better. It took a LOT longer than I think either of us had planned for.....but we both share the same obsessive "different toys can't share the same bin" gene and had to sort through everything and organize. It's a big improvement though. She does a great job there without a lot of help. It was nice to spend the morning with her!

Then...the dreaded Walmart trip. If you haven't caught one of my rants on it yet, I view Walmart as the earthly equivalent to the inner rings of hell. Not that I believe in levels of hell, it's a purely literary statement.

We have a brand-spanking new Super Walmart now. If just opened last week. I thought maybe if I went in the middle of an afternoon a week after it opened it wouldn't be too bad. WRONG....boy was I wrong. But I did get the few craft things I've needed for awhile and some more duckies (we LOVE rubber duckies) and made it out alive. Hopefully I won't have to go back for a few months now.

If it's not enough to hate Walmart....I also hate getting there. They have the whole area tore up and corral the cars through a maze of fence to get you into the too-small parking lot. I also wish I'd taken a camera just to capture on of the arrows painted on the road. You know those arrows that tell you if it's a straight only lane, or right only, or right and straight? Well this arrow was marking a "forward and backward" lane. I'm sorry, but what in the world?

My final rant for the day....and I cringe even to write this because it's so darned mean....but old people drivers! On my very slow, residential street I had this little old lady ran a stop sign (two way, I didn't have one) and turned right in front of me. Luckily, I was going pretty slow and saw that she had no intention of stopping..so I did. Then a block later she blew straight through another stop sign by the school! Not a flicker of brake lights! Thank goodness no kids were out! Please, if your grandma drives like this, offer her a ride. And hide her keys. And remove the spark plugs from her car. Thank you.

End of My Rope

That's how I feel now. Am I allowed to be just done with everything....even for a little while? I guess not. I thought I was at the end of my rope while trying to cook dinner with a screaming toddler attached to my leg.....but now I think I am after Jordan left the bathroom door open (after getting his second unnessesary band-aid of the day) and Celia got in. By the time I found her she had covered her legs (and half the bathroom I cleaned yesterday) in powder foundation and was trying to give herself a haircut. Thank goodness she didn't succeed on that account!

It's almost bathtime.

And after that bedtime.

If I can somehow manage to drag my butt through folding the rest of the laundry once the kids are in bed and getting it all put away, then today will not have been a total waste.

And tomorrow I'm getting us all up, dragging everyone to church. Where I can place them in the hands of happy workers and sit in peace for an hour...hearing a message that I pray will have me leave feeling better than this.

Until then...

...it's almost bathtime.

Exhaustion

If you're one of my readers who doesn't like to hear me gripe, stop back in tomorrow. I've got a really nice post for you then. But tonight I'm venting...and it's likely to be long, rambling, and rather whiny.

I'm tired. I'm not dealing well with the whole time change thing. And I'm wondering how single moms and military wives do it. I'm starting to forget what it's like to have Chris here like a normal week! He's doing a much better job of calling us and talking to the kids, but now I suck because when he calls....I have nothing to say. Our latest conversation went something like this:

Me: Hello?

Chris: Hey there!

Me: Hey.

Chris: How's it going.

Me: Okay. Celia threw poop in the family room.

Chris: Really? How did that happen?

Me: Ummm...she just took off her pants and did it.

Chris: Oh. How was MOPS?

Me: Good.

Chris: Oh?

Me: Yeah.

Chris: Well, I have to pee like a mule, so I'm going to run and do that before the next game!

Me: Okay. Bye.

Yeah, he calls, acts very attentive and engaging...and I'm just like "Duhhhh". Also, how exactly does a mule pee?

I started putting mud on the drywall and discovered I suck at it. I haven't even completed the first layer...so hopefully it will get better. I called my father in law to let him know we were going to Charleston, but he's still coming over to work on it. Part of me cringes because he's going to see my amateur job and think less of me....part of me is glad because ...well, he knows what he doing and does it well. Plus, I think I made it pretty clear that I didn't NEED him to come work since he's finished the hard, heavy stuff....but he's still coming. Which makes me think that he does like it...like a hobby. And that's fine...I certainly don't mind him coming over and working in there! I just don't want him to feel like he has to because we're family. But after talking to him, I think he likes it.

So now I'm debating what I can reasonably get done before going to Charleston. I have to pack. That's a no-brainer. Which means I ought to do laundry. I'm really wanting to make some special St. Patrick's Day brownies to take with us since we'll be there all day Saturday. And I'd like to finish the first layer in the bathroom. That's pretty ambitious and not likely to all get done before 3 tomorrow.

The whole trip is a big question mark in my head. I mean, we really aren't going to see Chris. He's going to be working until midnight then out the door by 8 the next morning. So unless I rouse the kids and we all stare at him while he's sleeping (hey, stranger things have happened) we aren't going to see him. I had high hopes of Jordan going to a game or two and hanging with dad courtside....but that's not going to happen. Apparently the whole tournament is packed because of this OJ Mayo punk (don't get me started on him. You want the scoop on Mayo, check this guy out. He knows what he's talking about) and NO ONE but media is allowed courtside.

But....there is an indoor pool. The kids are dying to swim, so that makes the trip worth it. And it will be nice to see something other than the same four walls this weekend.

Then we all get to come home for a few days. But Chris and I don't really interact much. I'm exhausted because...well, frankly....children can suck the life right out of you. They are little joys, but can drain a person. If you're a parent, you know. If you aren't...shut your self in a room with a child for an hour. I guarantee you'll come out tired. Chris will be exhausted because he's been working too many hours and eating crap food for too many days. We'll both have so much that has happened during the week that we won't even know where to start talking, and wouldn't have the energy to do so even if we did.

I just keep telling myself that once he is home, things will be better. But then I just about start hyperventilating when I think about all the things he's got scheduled...St Jude's Radiothon, Follies, WVBA Awards, Trinity's new recording....in addition to his regular work schedule.

Plus the soccer coordinator called and they desperately need a coach this spring. It will be good for me...give me a chance to get some exercise, spend some quality time Jordan. It's just too much to think about right now.

Lastly, MOPS today was very enjoyable. I really like the ladies I'm meeting there. But I have a slight problem with word vomit when I get nervous (that's when you just talk WAY too much, I don't actually get sick on anyone) and I'm afraid I come off as a total egomaniac. The speaker today was funny, and she made a good point: To live in abundance you have to find our purpose in life and live it. Easier said than done! She had us go through this little quiz that was supposed to help lead you toward your purpose....but I had a different answer for every life goal question! I have a different purpose (okay, obsession) every other month! I hope eventually one will be the one God wants me to pursue at which point He better burn a bush or something to clue me in. I'm just floating through life like that crazy plastic bag in American Beauty.

P.S. Where the heck is 30 Rock? Why is NBC messing with the one show I actually enjoy this season?

Slinging Mud and Flinging Poo

No, not the preverbial mud thrown around by politicians and talk show hosts. Drywall mud! Our bathroom is finally to the point where I can get in there and do something....so I started taping and mudding the joints today. I'm half excited, half terrified I'm going to mess it up.

Unfortunately, the timing couldn't be worse. Last week, I had NOTHING going on. I was bored out of my gourd. This week we have guitar, church, MOPS, and I'm planning to taking the kids to Charleston friday night. That's usually how it goes though...I'll just get as much as I can done and finish it next week. Then we move on to tile. Woohoo!

Celia was a little angel while I was working on that and the zillion other things I had going on today. But she did NOT want to take a nap. I put her in there, thought she went to sleep, and came down to fix my lunch. Just as I sat down to some really good potato skins I heard the patter of little feet and clanking of toys. I figured she could play for a few minutes while I ate and then I'd go up and play the "take your nap bad guy". When I finally went up there, can you guess what I found? That's right. Poop. In the family room. That little monkey had pooped, removed her skirt, taken off the diaper....and THREW the poop into the family room.

That right there is why God made children so cute. So you would have to fight the urge to laugh (because everyone know that totally undermines discipline efforts) instead of fighting the urge to throttle them.