Won't you be, won't you please....

My parents have not been blessed by good next-door neighbors, and though the rest of the neighborhood is lovely, they are sandwiched between some real prizes.

On the one side, they have the chiropractor and the attorney-at-law. They went through a phase where they put notes on our car if it was parked in the street which claimed brought down their property value. I'm sure the weed-ridden, grass-free yard, and paint-thirsty trim has nothing to do with it? They have calmed down in recent years, and other than the security camera they have pointing in my parents' bedroom window, they keep to themselves.

On the other side, is the most vile woman I have encountered. Her voice is boisterous and grating; her cackle makes Fran Dresser's laugh sound like a lullaby. I could go on and on with stories about her, and her grandchildren who live on the other side of her, but I think our most recent encounter best personifies how lovely this woman is.

Yesterday, the kids were playing out front in the yard. When I say kids, please be aware this is a large crowd: my daughters, four of my siblings, and the three kids across the street. I was out front speaking with the lovely woman who lives across the street, my dad was on the porch, and my mom was inside with the kids' speech therapist and had all the doors and windows open. The kids were nowhere near the next-door neighbors' yard; in fact over the years, my parents have planted a wall of foliage, to block her view of our front yard. (our being belonging to my parents') My brother, and his friend from across the street were in our yard hitting the tree with a stick, and pulling the bark off.

"Don't do that!" The ear-piercing shriek came from the next driveway. The other mother and I looked questioningly at each other. "I think he needs to go use the restroom!" She thought the boys were peeing on our tree; they weren't. Even if they were, how does that bother her any?

The nice neighbor called over to the boys and asked what they were doing; her son yelled back, "Nothing! She's just a nasty old MAN!" As his mom tried to explain that it was rude to say that, he kept yelling it out!


Anyone want to go pee in her yard?

Weird.

I have been back at work for three weeks, and during that time, my coworker and I have worn similar or nearly identical outfits on 5 separate occasions. The first day I probably shouldn't count because everyone wore the same outfit, so let's make it 4 times in the past 2 weeks we have accidentally coordinated.

Yesterday, we wore the exact same thing: identical shirts and the same shade of blue jeans. Today, I thought, "I will wear this year's spirit polo, because everyone generally wears that shirt on Friday. Then we won't match again." Guess who thought the same thing.....

But seriously, if I have to be on the same subconscious-wavelength mental frequency as someone, she is pretty doggone awesome. She is a fiber artist- which does not mean she glues beans to paper (my husband's goofy joke, not mine). She weaves and sculpts. She grows her own brown and green cotton- I never new it grew in colors other than white! She has a spinning wheel and a loom, and has chickens in her suburban backyard. Her weavings are beautiful: soft and delicate; they smell faintly of incense, and have hidden colors and details that a photo could never truly do justice. Just look at some of her work!

My husband's father passed away today. We know he is now with his wife and Jesus and is no longer in pain, but it is still hard for us left here on Earth.

Carnage Smells Like Oranges

As I have previously mentioned, my house has one major problem: when it rains, fire ants find their way inside! These ants are not content with infesting the normal places like the kitchen bathroom, or even dining room. They actually prefer the upstairs bedrooms (and the downstairs hall closet)!


For a period of time, they enjoyed my room, and sought out my clean laundry in order to build nests inside my clothes. There they waited for an unsuspecting victim to get dressed in the dark before they made a feast out of her pasty flesh! So, after we washed all the clean laundry for the umpteenth time, I purchased some highly toxic chemicals, sprayed them all over the carpet, and banned my children from the room for several weeks. It worked, for I have had no ants in my pants since.

However, a few nights ago, I discovered something horrific to a tender-hearted mommy like myself. Scout was having a particularly fussy night, so I crawled into bed with her(she is in a twin that is only inches off the floor). I immediately knew what was wrong- the ants had infested her bed!!! I quickly scooped her up, and deposited her in my bed. Thankfully her pajamas protected most of her skin, so only her arm has about eight bites; I think I may have fared worse! What was I to do? I couldn't use that potent chemical around her, and definately not where she sleeps.

My mom mentioned, "some orange stuff" that she used to be able to get at the mega-center. Being that few people would be able to direct me to such a product, I looked it up online and discovered "Orange Guard." It is water based, made from orange peels, said it can be used near food, children, and even in pet beds. I was skeptical, but desperate, so I went out and bought some.

I didn't fully believe that orange peels could kill insects, though I suspected it might act as a repellant (hehe- repel ant). I decided to test the downstairs closet first. I sprayed them, and they started running all over the living room. Great, the little problem I could have solved with a vacuum and some borax, was scattering all over the place! So I began spraying them like a mad woman on a mission. I think I may have gone overboard, but my house smelled fantastic! I left for a bit to strip the sheets off of Scout's bed. I came back downstairs, and then inspected the carnage.

There dozens of little ant carcasses curled into tight little balls. The others that were still struggling were clawing at their heads, trying to pull off their own antenae. It was vicous chemical warfare on a minute level, and it smelled blissfully cheery. It reminded me of being outside in the late summer, pulling a tangerine off the tree in the backyard, yet at the same time my victims writhed as they prayed to their little ant god for their misery to end and for the carnage to stop. It made me morbidly cheery to watch them waste away, for I knew they would no longer be able to torture my innocent daughter.

I treated the girls' room, and put plain white sheets on Scout's bed so I could easily see if they were there. As of a few minutes ago, I have only seen a lone ant, perhaps searching for other suvivors, but she never found them before she met her orange-scented demise.

Scout has a new tooth- a canine- up top. Actually she may have two by this morning....

Because I am so cool......

I have been so busy these past few weeks it seems, and this coming week will be even crazier! Training has been going okay, but I still don't sing loud enough through the whole class. I think maybe if I wasn't basically having to shout for over two hours, I would project better during one class (just re-read that sentence, I know it makes no sense, but I don't feel like changing it).

Well, I was riding in the car (did I mention my A/C is still broken?) with Scout and Little C (my 2-year old sister) and we decided to sing work songs. I was belting them out at the top of my lungs, trying to be loud enough for work. Well, during a particularly boisterous rendition of "Come Under my Umbrella," we came to a very busy intersection. As I finished the song, I looked out the window and saw the three cars nearest me; they all had their windows down. All the passengers and drivers were slack-jawed staring at me in disbelief. I guess I am probably loud enough for work now!

I should have followed a different career path

Our students are watching High School Musical, the Concert. I know at least one of the actors is 24, only a few years younger than me. I look young enough; I should have been a Disney "teen" superstar!

Vegetables for breakfast

Over the past 6 months or so (maybe even a year) I have felt like I have not been as effective of a wife and a mother as I used to be. My house is always in some stage disarray; some times are just more presentable than others. Meals are not as nutritious (or as tasty) as they once were. I often cook quick meals, and frozen vegetables thrown in the microwave to steam are a staple in my house. I don't bake anymore. I don't do as many outings with the girls, and story time has become relegated to one book many days. I still feel guilty for returning to work so soon after having Scout, and still have not adjusted to my husband's terrible schedule. I hope that this coming year will allow me to get into a better routine, and be more attentive to my family.

Scrambled Eggs

It seems like for weeks now, I have been having the urge to pour out my soul at the keyboard, bare every inch of vulnerability that has been consuming me lately, and open the book that exposes all my feelings of inadequacy, yet as soon as I sit down, I am unable to. It seems like, if I let the words swirling in my head drip out of my fingertips, everything will become true. At this moment I can pretend all my fears are simply bloated delusions of the Bogey Man or the Monster under my bed.

I was hired to work at Gymboree, and will begin training this afternoon. I am quite curious to see who "made it." Thankfully, this will mean that I will not have a lapse of pay between jobs, though it does add yet another commitment to an already full plate.

I think I need to begin looking for a new church to call home. There is nothing wrong with where I attend, and the girls love it. I attended all through middle and high school, and have been back for about two-and-a-half years (except for when we were living across the bay), yet I still feel like an outsider. I have yet to find my niche, and frankly, when I miss a week, no one seems to care or notice.

Failure

I have been comfort eating way too much. I guess I will put the healthy diet on hold for now, for I am just to overwhelmed to keep it up.

The Group Interview

As some of you know, I was told a few months ago that I may not have a job in the fall. However, they would not be able to tell me if I did until a few weeks before the school years started. This prompted me to apply to return to the University in order to complete my degree. Though I have enough financial aid to cover my expenses for the year, the prospect of existing on student loans is nerve-wracking to me. Therefore I have begun seeking out a part time job.

Today, I went to my first-ever group interview at Gymboree Play and Music (which after the interview I am even more hopeful, for it sounds like so much fun!) The environment of the group interview really gave me insight into American society. The entire group consisted of fifteen-twenty women, which did not surprise me. About half were dressed appropriately for an interview, of these half were dressed appropriately for an interactive interview. Only three of us brought socks (which were required) the rest had to wear "loaner socks." A quarter of the women were dressed slightly inappropriately for an interview (by my standards); for example one wore a tank top with a pretty skirt, and another wore khakis and a low-cut blouse. The remaining few were completely inappropriate!

A prime example of what I mean by completely inappropriate, was the girl who looked as if she was headed to Ybor City. She wore a hot pink halter shirt (I guess that's what it would be called, but it was not a traditional halter) with metal straps. Her bra was black; I know this because parts of the shirt were see through. She wore a tight, white skirt, that she ended up splitting down the back during the interview. Her eyeshadow matched her shirt perfectly, and her thick snow white eyliner went with her skirt and the large, glittery flower in her hair. Her lime green tongue ring did not match so well!

The interview was fun; we did the hokey-pokey, played charades, and role played different job scenarios. Towards the end, we were all asked to sing a kids song. We got to pick our song, and volunteered when to go (I went second- Yay, Me!) The job posting stated we must feel comfortable singing. Now, I know I will never, ever get a major recording contract, yet I can totally rock "Mr. Sun." There were people who refusd to sing a song! Seriously, why bother coming to an interview, where you KNOW you must sing and then not sing? They were asking for opera; they wanted "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" or the "ABCs." They didn't care if everyone sang the same song even!

There was one girl there, who I am hesitant to bring up, for the more I think about it, the more I suspect she was like one of "my students." Her clothes were shabby and very casual, her hair was messy, and her lipstick was a garish vermilion. She repeatedly put her shoes on, after they told us to wear "socks only, " and her cell phone rang repeatedly. In the group discussion, she suggested bribing the kids with candy! When they asked us to not sing along, she did, and then chastised a woman for singing the song with a different ending than she was used to. However, "my students" all learn employability skills before they graduate, and I would hope that they would at least groom a little better before hand.

Hopefully I made a good impression and will be called back for an individual interview!

“A fat stomach never breeds fine thoughts.”- St. Jerome

After numerous people asking me whether I was expecting over the past few weeks, I have come to a realization that I must do one of two things: get in shape, or buy new clothes. Thought the later will come inevitably, I figure now is as good of time to get in shape as any. I know I am not fat, but I have no tone, especially through my core. The following things will be my goals for the month:

• Drink more, preferably water. I know I never drink enough; I get terrible dehydration headaches, and my skin is frequently dry. I just don't think to drink anything most days. Lately, I have noticed that unless I grab a watter bottle before I leave the house, I won't have anything until I get home from summer school at one. Therefore, I just need to push more liquids, be it water, juice, or caffiene-free soda (caffiene is a diuretic).
• Add flax seed meal to my food. Flax seed is amazing stuff; it is high in fiber and omega-3 fatty acids, has a very mild taste, and can be added to just about everything. I had already started adding it to the girls' food, so why don't I add it to my diet as well? I only need a tablespoon or two a day.
  
• Move more! I know it is freakishly hot out, so I haven't been walking. I think if I dance to every Hannah Montana/ Jonas Brothers/ Demi Levato song I hear through out the day, I will lose my baby belly in no time!

So that is my plan for this month. I know it is nothing drastic. However, until school starts, I can not begin some elaborate workout routine. Who knows, maybe by August, I will have just given up, and bought a new wardrobe that does not contain loose, flowing sundresses!

Awesome [FREE] Album!

I know I may be a little biased, for I know the artist, and I am a sucker for a guy with an acoustic guitar. However, this album is FANTASTIC!!!! (Yes, it warrants the use of multiple exclamation points.)


Go to: www.MikeyPD.com and download "...from the proverbial basement" for free!

It's, Oh, So Quiet...

I am glad that I live in a country where most individuals are not morning people. I [usually] love waking up to quiet that envelopes my whole city, resting upon my house like a cozy quilt before a lit fireplace. I get my few moments of serenity before chaos sets in. For these few hours of peace are worth my inability to rest.

When I Die, Put Me in Silk Pajamas

I have a lot to write about, but very little time to do so. The words are dancing in my head itching to pour out of my fingertips. I have been finding zen in acoustic guitars and loudly singing along. I feel the urge to hear the hum of a needle and to pull out paints. A holiday will bid me well.

A little dirt never hurt anybody, right?

Today was our student's end of the year picnic. It was nice; the weather cooperated, the kids had a great time, and my girls were able to come.

At lunch, Punky wanted to sit with my coworker's daughter, and I sat at a nearby picnic table. A little while later, Punky brought over her hot dog, and said, "I don't want anymore." She had eaten all of the ketchup off of the bun and taken maybe two bites of meat. This is not uncommon, for she doesn't have the best appetite and had been gorging on junk all morning. Being a good mommy, and not wanting to waste food, I ate her hot dog.


At dinner, she informed me that she had dropped her hot dog on the ground! Thank you, Punky, for letting me know, several hours after the fact.

Thundermonsters

In honor of all the rain we've been having, I thought I'd post the story I wrote for Punky a few years ago:


Deep and dark and damp and dreary, the wind does blow so soft and eerie. The raindrops plop and plop and plop, constant on my wet rooftop. Lightning turns the dark night sky brilliant as Fourth of July…
And in my bed I’m nice and dry.

Yet though I know I’m safe inside, I want to scream, I want to hide! For the THUNDERMONSTERS march tonight!

When they march, it’s awful loud. Though their noisy marching draws no crowd, they still bang and crash and yell and smash. Their noisy music fills me with dread; I feel it pounding inside my head (luckily I’m safe in bed.) The booming noise makes me shake; I won’t even eat my birthday cake! What noise these thundermonsters make!

And then…

Plop, plop, plop, the dripping seems to start to stop. The lightning’s gone. The air is still. A bird lands on my windowsill. The storm is gone, so is the fright. At least I can sleep tonight.

The storm is gone, turn out my light.

So Ready!

I am so ready to be off! The kids are going crazy! Too bad I only have week before summer school starts, but at least that's a four day week of half days.

Gollum at the Grocery

Yesterday when we were grocery shopping, I saw a little old lady(?) who looked just like Gollum from Lord of the Rings. Just give him a few more strands of snow-white hair, a striped shirt, and a pair of capris, and they would be twins!

I wish remembered I had my camera with me yesterday!

I don't know what to do with myself!

Punky graduated from preschool last week, and Marvin doesn't have to go into work until I get home. Everyone else is still asleep. I'm already dressed, and have my lunch made. I have the next thirty minutes or so to myself!

blah

I'm hormonal, grumpy, and tired. When I got home from work, I ate a bowl of chili with tortilla chips and then I ate a sandwich. This sandwich had crunchy peanut butter, nutella, bananas, and sea salt; I should probably call it something like the PMS special! Punky is super-moody; I wonder if she is picking it up from me?

I had a rough week, and I was told I might not have a job next year, but will find out a couple weeks before school starts. That's just fabulous! It did prompt me to apply to go back to school, so I am anxiously waiting to learn about two stressful things. I was told I wasn't able to work summer school, and then told I am able to work it. I think that even if I wasn't a raging ball of hormones, I would be emotional this week!

Mamacita

I do not believe the act of giving birth makes one a mother; rather I believe that is compassion and selfless love it what makes a mother!

The woman who gives birth and throws her baby in the dumpster, is not a mother. The woman who keeps her baby and neglects or abuses him is not a mother. The woman who uses abortion as birth control is not a mother. These women may one day learn to be a mother, but carrying a child did not automatically make that so.

The woman who gives birth and raises her child is a mother. The woman who adopts a child who is a stranger to her is a mother. The woman who loves and dreams for the baby in her belly that is never born is a mother. The woman who gives birth and realizes she can not provide a good life for her child and decides to put him up for adoption is a mother. Motherhood is not biological, it is emotional!

Visualization

I have been reading too much lately.

It is not the quantity of books I read that detirmine if I have "read too much," but it is rather how I read them. I will get into a mindset where I begin seeing the words that describe my life. I no longer ill see memories, I will see the words pouring out across a page as my life occurs.

I know what you are thinking: Jessie you are nuts!

I guess it is like an internal narrative, if that makes me sound a little more sane.

As the early evening sun eased through the window, I lay nestled in the coffee-bean cushion soaking in the rays. The girls came quickly to me as I set down my novel.

First, Scout, crawling wildly initially, then slowly rising like a clumsy circus bear stumbling into my arms. She nuzzles into my neck and her gentle blonde hair rubs my cheek as she settles into my lap.

Then comes Punky, more gracefully, but just as savagely. She leaps onto the pillow, and for a moment, we all flounce into the air. Shrieks of laughter fill the living room. My arms are the wings of a hen wrapping around her chicks as we settle into our cozy saddle-brown nest.

My brain is filled with plenty of these memories where the words are recalled before the scene. Oh well, it doesn't really matter how I remember, so long as it is!

Ants in my Pants

What is the best way to make your new neighbors think you have lost your mind? Begin throwing all your clothes, blankets, and laundry hamper out of your window on to your patio below! The following are the events that led to my apparent loss of sanity:


All week, the student I work with was adamant that "on Thursday, Ms. Jessica is going to get sick and never come back." He has proven to be somewhat knowledgeable about the future before, and one day broke down in tears saying he needed to call mom, at the approximate time she fell at home and broke her ankle.

Thursday was a rough morning to begin with. When I set my alarm, I forgot that I had to take the girls by my parent's house before work, so I was running late to start. However, I managed to get out of the house only two minutes behind schedule! Then I realized that I had forgotten the videos that I was supposed to show that day, and had to turn around. I was late for work. During first period, I felt myself get bit twice- once on the leg and once on the hip. I looked at my hip and it was swollen and purple! I excused myself to the restroom, and checked my thigh: there was a raised, red welt the size on my hand, and it was hot to the touch. I called my mom, who was coming up to the school shortly, and asked her to bring me benadryl. After I took it, the swelling went down on my hip, but not my leg. The school nurse looked at it and told me to "go to the doctor- TODAY! Call him now." Apparently MRSA is going around the schools! I went to the minute clinic where they checked it out, and it was not MRSA, yet. I had to go on a very high dose of antibiotics- four times a day! She also gave me a prescription for a cream to treat MRSA, if it got worse, but told me not to fill it yet. She said not to go back to work that day, so I headed to pick up Punky, who was having pizza with my mom and my brother's class.

On the way to the pizza place, less than a block away, my car stalled in the middle of an intersection. I couldn't get my hazards to work at first, and I had Scout in the car. I frantically called my mom, as I repeatedly tried to get my car to start. She ran out, and together, we pushed my all-American steel station wagon across the street into a parking lot. During this test of brute strength, I hit my eye on the door, and cut it!

That afternoon, I went home, and began taking the antibiotics, which did help my leg. However, it also made me nauseous. I didn't feel great, but at least I did not have to go to work on Friday.

Friday evening, Marvin went to work, and I went upstairs to change clothes, because, by this time, I had thrown up twice, and wasn't feeling great. It was then that I discovered thousands of fire ants in my clean laundry and swarming all over the floor. I called maintenance, who told me the grounds people handle bugs, and they probably wouldn't be in until Monday. "Why don't you go buy some spray?" "Because my car is broken down, and my husband works overnight!"

I had to get these ants out- now! I had already been bit a few times and was having an allergic swell. Since they were mostly infesting my clothes, I figured to best way to get the ants out, was to get the clothes out. So I opened the window, popped out the screen, and wildly began throwing anything that the ants touched out the window! Socks and jeans rained down! T-shirts were hanging from my gazebo! I vacuumed all that remained and took out the canister. I made the decision that the girls and I would sleep downstairs to avoid any unwanted bedfellows. I then proceeded to spend the next six hours puking my guts out!

I did gather all my clothes in a basket, but they remain on my back patio, until I can drown all those little buggers in my washing machine!

My Sauna's like a Kitchen!

Marvin has been trying to get me to try out our sauna for a few weeks now, and I kept putting it off for one reason or another. Last night, I finally decided to go try it, mostly to get him off my back.

I entered the clubhouse bathroom, where there was a middle-aged woman with a blunt ebony bob sitting on the counter by the sink reading a Giddeon's Bible. I opened the wooden door to the sauna, and peered inside. It was a dim room, smaller than my closet, and cryptic messages like "I love Mark Futon" were scrawled on the walls and the ceiling. On one bench a Garfield mug filled with water was carefully centered, on the other were jagged grey stones in a haphazard pile. On the heater coils, where the stones belonged, were two covered stainless steel pots. The room smelled like an Asian restaurant, and the odor of boiling onion burned my nose. The saucepan was an enigma, with it's opaque top, but the large stock pot was a sort of dumpling stew, thick with mushrooms and onions. I sat for a minute or two, trying to enjoy what my husband feels is a very relaxing moment, but began chocking on the pungency engulfing my nose and throat.

I did call the office when I returned home, and they kept transferring me to have me tell the story to others, for they found it so outlandish! Marvin went to the men's sauna about an hour later, which was in the same building, but a different room. He said the smell throughout the building was so strong in there, tat he couldn't imagine how I even lasted a few seconds in the make-shift oven! I don't understand what would posses a person to bring food into a semi-public restroom, nor would I ever dream of cooking in such an unsavory place!



Later, I went to the store, and there were two interesting characters that I encountered: the first was in a flesh-colored unitard, and the second was dressed as a Luchador! If I didn't know better, I would have sworn that there was a full moon last night!

My drug of choice

There is something masochistic in being a mother. Beyond the whole idolization of painful wonders of childbirth, there is a strange sense of self-actualization when a person survives a rough night with a feverish baby, or a teething baby, or a hungry baby. One often feels pride in how well she handles herself and her household on a few interrupted hours of sleep. Babies must apparently give off a pheromone that produces an affect similar to amphetamines; how else would one explain the mother's ability to go without sleep for months on end, her frequent disregard to the fact that she is covered in drool, vomit, or worse, and her frequent need for a "baby fix" as her own children grow. Some women will do anything to obtain a baby, often wiping out their bank accounts, and some extreme cases will even commit crimes!

Fortunately, I am not seeking a "fix," for my child has not slept since she has begun cutting molars a few months ago. Prior to that, she was still only sleeping at most 5 hours at a time. Last night I was up most of the night tending to the grumpy and feverish little thing. Today I am exhausted, and look worse than I feel. I am heading into work, and then will return home, make dinner, kiss my husband goodbye, and have another long night. Tomorrow, I am off but will begin a long day of hopefully finishing my move in one more day. (Lord please let me finish quickly!) However, I would not trade this for the world!

"It's like a tornado in my nose."

I am awake, but the house hums with the quiet sound of sleep. I peer out the window at the grey sky hovering over the carbon lake, searching for glints of blue along the horizon. I should enjoy this moment of solitude, absorb it all, and drink it in, yet I can't help but to feel lonely, though I know I'm not alone. I feel isolated in a crowd, and invisible on stage.

A whimper breaks the icy calm of the room, and I quickly crawl down the hall and peek my head over the edge of the mattress.

"Momma!

As I scoop her up in my arms, her head nuzzles into my neck and her tiny fingers knead my back like a baker. I gaze out the window and see the streaks of cobalt; today will be better. She is the sunshine that starts my day.

Mirror

I have always been "like my mom" according to everyone who has ever met us, but the older I get, the more I realize that I am more and more "like my dad."

I need a vacation.

Grieving the Living

How do you handle it when your four-year old is clutching a family photo and screaming a prayer, "don't let my Grandpa die" and your one year old is crying and yelling "die, die, die?"


Lord, give me the strength to get my family through this difficult time.

Gumby

I wish I had more flexibility, though I thrive on routine. I wish my husband had a set schedule, and that he didn't volunteer to work his days off so frequently. I am frequently forced to scramble to find a sitter that is available assorted hours, or to take off entirely. Of course, I am the one who must always take off! I was told that I would have my position this summer, but have now been informed that it is likely I will not have that opportunity. I guess I need to find something, but that will be difficult with my husband's scattered hours. I only have a few hours of classes left to graduate- 3 summer credits and a course that is only offered during my workday apparently. I can not afford to quit and pay for school, so I always wait "until next semester." Unfortunately "next semester" never comes for me. I feel like I miss too much work now, and my paycheck feels the brunt of it. I feel like I've been pulled in a million directions. I'm moving, mothering, working and worrying; my day never stops!

La famille à jamais

Jenga!

I keep building myself up to where I long to be, ready to turn the next corner, and begin my life as the person that I believe I am. Then suddenly, the tower begins to wobble as a block is pulled from under my feet. I falter and sway, but regain my balance. I make a few more choices that seem to leave me nervous but more or less stable. I take a deep breath and carelessly take hold of the block that is providing me with a firm foundation; for a silent moment, all seems to be fine. In an instant, every wall comes crashing down upon me, and I have lost the game.


I guess it's time to try again.

Shrug

I wish I had a blog that people actually read, and moreover that I made money off of! I saw a thing on another site about some woman who makes $40,000 A MONTH off of her blog!! That's more than I make in an entire year; too bad I'm not that exciting.

Je t'aime

Humility is futile

My mom's group had a banquet last night, and I was unable to attend due to Marvin's work schedule. They had a "best of" awards ceremony and I was nominated "probably the smartest person in the room." I am glad I was not there, because I would have been so embarrassed!
I know I am intelligent, but there is something about pitting myself intellectually against another that makes me blush. It seems so pompous to tout myself on a silver platter. The award makes me wonder: did I brag about myself too much, do I make others feel poorly about themselves, or am I that big of a nerd? Upon writing this, I did realize one conversation that may have led to this nomination: my high school science project titled "Determining the Coefficient of Thermal Expansion using a 630 nm He-Ne Laser." I do not recall how this topic came up, but hopefully that was the primary factor in my nomination. Being that there are many other wise women in the group, I do not want to appear to think I am smarter than they are!
I don't know what it is about American society, but it seems to both ostracize and idolize the intelligent. It was very hard for me socially in middle and high school; it was embarrassing to be the smart girl (I also had the stigma of the "Bible girl" but that was a whole other issue). I had a tendency to befriend students in other grades or academic classes; my friends knew I was sharp, but never were fully aware of what I was capable of. I did not mind being near the top of my class, but didn't want to be on top. I guess I wanted to coast just far enough under the radar that I still registered, but wasn't seen as a threat. I guess truly that's how I still feel today!

Time in a bottle

As I have gotten older, time seems to feel more irrelevant. What is that saying about the days growing longer, but the years are growing shorter? I graduated high school eight years ago, and have been married over six years! However, both of those events seem like they were just the other day.....

It's that time of year again....

I am fully aware that this is the time of year where I have my meltdown saying I can't handle life. Typically, I do have a lot of stressful things going on, and it is just the culmination of when I can't handle anything else. March is hectic at work,and there are no scheduled days off. I have a number of birthdays that fall in this period of time as well. My father in law is still in medical rehab, and not doing as well as I would like. The girls and Marvin keep getting sick. I am having to deal with bleeding disorders and food allergies; meal preperation sucks. My allergies are flaring up terribly and I feel awful!!! I am having to make major educational decisions that will greatly influence Punky's future. I hardly get to see Marvin when he's working, for his schedule is opposite mine. I love my job terribly while I am there, but dread going to it when I am home. I will probably cry myself to sleep tonight because I feel so stressed.

However, by Easter, I will begin to relax, and every other week until the end of the school year will either have a half day or a day off until summer. Somehow, I think I will survive.

Craigslist

I was flipping through craigslist, and found several posts by the same person:

colthes!!!!!!! - $30 (lutz)

i
ll also take best offer!

its 0-3 months boy !
nice clean colthes ,my son jus grew out of em! i have out fits and shoes

girls crob set " nice" - $10 (lutz)

baby girls crib set -"poo set"

its pink and has NEVER been used still in the package!!!!

bassinet - $20 (lutz)

whight and blue " BRAND NEW!"

has ever thing all the bolts and screws :) and it has a baskit underneath for anything to: dipers and whips and or colthes!

also i'll take a good offer!



If you don't know why I have a problem with these posts, go away, I don't want you to read anything I whright ever again!

I'm Floored

For the past few weeks, well it's really only been a week, I have been ripping the carpet out of the house. I know not everyone has experienced the luscious beauty of this shaggy masterpiece, so I felt the whole world should see it, in all of it's putrid glory. The floor beneath in the front of the house, is not magnificent, but it is better, and it does not smell like urine, which is always a plus.

I wanted to get more done this weekend, but my husband is ill. Personally, I would rather have a dozen sick children, than him being sick! He does not get sick often, but when he does, one would think the world was ending! He lies in bed all day and night when he is off, but insists on going to work. He refuses to visit a physician, and instead self-medicates with mucinex and alka-seltzer. He whines and whines about his cough (which I do admit sounds terrible). He wakes me in the night when he can't sleep, and gets annoyed when I'm not pleasant. I love him deeply, but right now I want to throw him into a deep hole until he is well again!

Life

crazy SPINNING
rollercoasterride next
stop here
DEEP breath(e) deep
take a break for you
never BReaK me
Down here it's too
two QUIET