Afternoon musings...

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. . . . Great is our Lord and mighty in power; his understanding has no limit" (Psalm 147:3, 5)

A crash helmet. That's what I need. To think that God knew when I was five years old and learning to drive this go-cart (while Dad kept shouting, "Brake," and I kept pushing the gas) that I'd be in this exact spot in my life today. There's that darn human part that wants to think, "Why can't He just snap his fingers and fix this mess?" But, the other part of me knows that life journeys just don't work that way. Life is NOT a choose your own adventure book. I can guarantee you that I would have trashed this book a long time ago! Every adventure I choose seems to end up in shambles!

Up with a feverish baby most of the night. Grant was piled in bed on one side of me and Annie on the other. Up every two hours alternating Motrin and Tylenol and requests for water and then separate requests for water with ICE! I'm physically tired but my mental capacities are spent. My mental wheels spun all night. At one point, I fought the urge to spray WD40 into my ears to lubricate the wheels so I might be able to fall asleep and ignore the squeaking and grinding of steel.

Anyway, we all finally crawled from the rubble about 8:00 this morning and I started trying to clean up with a whining feverish toddler clinging to me and two older kids darting from room to room trying to stay under the radar. Why is it so important for me to clean the house up for him? Do I want him to believe that things stay perfectly in place and spotless despite three children running around? Sometimes I really wonder what motivates my actions. (Kind of scary that I can't answer my own questions)! When I started biting children's heads off because I wanted them cleaning instead of watching TV, I realized I'd reached my boiling point and I needed to release the pressure valve before I really lost it. I gave up on cleaning and fixed lunch.

Currently, one child is folding laundry. One is sleeping in my bed with Annie (fever spiked again). And I am about to make myself a cup of tea and read through some of my favorite craft blogs. There's not a darn thing wrong with sitting still and relaxing OR letting him see the house and yard for what it is - a mess!

Today's distractions...

"He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:8)

1) Finished cleaning out the other half of the file cabinet drawer. Found a file marked "WIFE" with odds and ends in it. One piece of paper had notations from our phone call with the Russian doctor with stats about Dasha. Born at 29 weeks, 5th pregnancy, 3rd delivery, 37 cm, 1.5 kg, no prenatal, rolled over at 10 months, sat up at 2 years. OK, that puts things into perspective today.

2) Checked off all of my errands by 11:00 this morning including mailing packages, exchanging a picture that Ritz camera chopped in half but boxed up for me anyway, transferring car title (paid off months ago but never transferred it - duh), Grant's camp physical (with the girls in tow - very interesting), Home Depot run for a PVC cutter (um, did you know you can melt PVC with a dull hacksaw?), and finally home again to put the playhouse together.

3) Kept busy trying to clean the house up and put things away but cleaning with Annie around is like shoveling snow in a snowstorm.

4) Realized Annie had a fever and gave her Tylenol and gave myself permission to collapse on the sofa with her while Grant was at Scouts and Dasha was coloring.

5) Trying not to focus on the fact that Eric crossed the state line an hour ago and will see the kids tomorrow night. Why do I allow those darn butterflies to flutter like that? There's no need for them. Those butterflies should have flown south two months ago.

Heading to bed for now knowing that whatever bug Annie has will probably encroach her sleep and land her in my bed which means laying in the dark with the computer off. Not what I look forward to. (Don't get me wrong, I love to cuddle up with Annie when she gives me the opportunity. I just don't relish having her in my bed where I have to force myself into a traditional mode of "sleep" when I know those circumstances just set me up for a very long and restless night).

Needed: Memory zapper from Men in Black

Forgetting what is behind, and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God called me heavenward in Christ Jesus
Philippians 3:13-14

So, the morning started with a bang but the evening is ending with a wee bit of excitement as I anticipate a fun craft with the kids tomorrow morning. I'd been looking for the girls a playhouse for quite some time. Those darn Little Tikes ones are cute but bulky and expensive (even used) and I need something that can be taken down pretty easily to. After doing some research, I found a pattern to make a really cut house using PVC pipe. We'll see how it goes. I can at least get the frame done tomorrow but sewing the "walls" will probably take a few nights. But, that's ok. It gives me something constructive to do!

I did finish sorting through one of the file cabinet drawers after my melt down this morning, though. I can mark that off of my list. My "A-Ha" moment came when I figured out why photos and other memories cause me such pain. My entire life was built around and on memories of things we did, places we went, stuff we said, etc. Now, I wonder how many of those things were really authentic. For example, the picture above was taken at Palo Duro Canyon in TX. I snapped this shot hanging out of the van window because it was beginning to drizzle and the kids were getting tired. We couldn't even get to the floor of the canyon due to flooding. To an outsider, the event was nothing historical. However, it was the first time I'd seen raw beauty like this. I was overwhelmed with the beauty of the canyon. I'd filed these memories in a very special place even though my family probably never even knew that it meant that much to me. However, after finding out that "they" shared a lengthy visit to the canyon, too, I had to dump all of my memories out of the window because the context in which I'd filed them included sentimental feelings about our reason for even being in TX at the time. It was just another memory that I'd had to crumple up. Yeah, I could "re-frame" the memory in a different context as the counselor said but I'd rather not even think about the place anymore. Lord only knows what went on there on his second trip that sure didn't go on there with three grumpy hungry kids and a minivan. (I called him for hours that day trying to find him thinking that he might be laying dead somewhere. I even called his neighbor and co-workers to look for him). Zip. Memory deleted. (Yeah, whatever! I wish I had one of those zapper things like they have in Men in Black that deletes memories. I don't know how far back I'd zap but I'd sure zap enough out to avoid the mess I'm in now)!

This is why everything is so tumultuous. Every memory I have is now shadowed with wondering if he shared (or will share) the same things with her. What happens if they have kids together? Will all of the memories of him helping deliver our babies be tainted, too? What about our kids? Will they become just a memory to him? What about our wedding night? Ha! We dated for nearly six years but had "saved ourselves." Nope, that precious memory even has soot on it now after knowing about their "first night." Renting our first apartment, what fun that was to be an "adult" and find our own home. I vividly remember looking at the model and dreaming about how I could make it a "home" for us. Nope. Memory wiped out the moment "they" got their first apartment. It's not fair that I have to give up so many beautiful memories. And, I know many of you are thinking how dumb I am for letting him have this much power over my emotions. Well, until you've walked in these shoes, don't judge. Almost the last 20 years of my life have been built on and framed around these memories. Now, as I begin to pluck memories out of the corners which are sullied by the current situation, the Jenga blocks are beginning to sway and swoon like they might just collapse at any moment. I can't let that happen, though. I can't let myself or the kids get trapped under all of the rubble.

So, as I feared, with the extra time and unstructured hours of summer, my mind has time to meander and wander down memory lane despite knowing it's the wrong road to take right now. I must find things to fill my time (such as constructing buildings out of PVC pipe). Tonight, I'm not heading to bed with dread that I'm expected to lay still and quiet for the next eight hours and fight the memories that taunt me each night. I'm going to bed with my head swimming with ideas of how to design a covering for the girls' playhouse. Did you know that you can even build bunk beds, sofas, and swing sets with PVC and the stuff only costs pennies? Hmmm.... I might just have a new living room set by the end of summer after all! It gives a whole new meaning to "design on a dime."

Goodnight.

FAIL x 10

OK, let me see if I can get this all straight...

1) I set my alarm for this morning but didn't realize I had the volume turned all the way down. Fail. After a sleepless night, double FAIL.

2) Yesterday, I changed my sheets. This morning, Annie took her diaper off while watching cartoons in my bed and peed on the bed. FAIL.

3) I managed to get everyone out of the house for church and then slammed my fingers in the van door. FAIL.

4) Dropped Annie off in the nursery and had to take Dasha with me into service since they no longer offer a class for her at the 9:00 hour. FAIL.

5) Jeff Henderson was preaching this morning. Fail. (OK - My brain said fail, my heart knew otherwise.). Jeff is the pastor at one of the other Northpoint campuses. However, before joining Northpoint, he worked for Truit Cathy. Yeah, THE Truit Cathy of Chick-fil-A. Jeff worked in the marketing department. So, let's just talk about all of the raw nerves I have when this guy simply stands up. Eric worked with Chick-fil-A. It was his dream job. He was in marketing. Chick-fil-A alone makes my heart feel raw. The folks Eric worked with weren't just employers, they were family. I never realized how true that was until everything happened. Anyway, so Jeff is standing on stage, ready to deliver the message and I look over to see Dasha scratching in inappropriate places like she's digging for buried treasure. I'll admit her actions were at least a distraction to me! :) Jeff's message was on encouragement. I won't paraphrase the entire message. However, let's just say that the entire time, my heart kept screaming, "Where the heck was this message six months ago? This information could have saved us!" I left church feeling defeated. I just kept seeing how so many things could have been different. At one point during service, I really wanted to stand up and scream, "But what if it's too late?" My heart still says FAIL even though I know the message was for me. (Go to http://www.northpoint.org/messages/life_apps and check out the last message).

6) Trying to get the girls' lunch ready, I aimlessly flip on the TV. It just happened to be on gmc (left over from some drama I watched last night). What movie was on? Fireproof. What scene was it? The scene where John Waller's song "While I'm Waiting" begins to play and you watch a firefighter climbing up an extended ladder on a truck into the sky. Perfect. More fodder for my aching heart. FAIL.

7) Trying to reorganize all of the files in the cabinet to accommodate my own blommosimg style or keeping bills in order. Of course, I come across an old file with letters from Eric. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did I even begin reading them? I knew better! It's like I just wanted to cry some more! (Thank goodness Annie was asleep and Dasha was busy). It was like I could hear him saying those things to me. Needless to say, the last part of the file cabinet still didn't get done. FAIL.

8) I'm in serious need of a Snuggie for my heart today. I knew that once the routine of school was gone and the demands of the last months were aside, I'd have some roller coasters to deal with but this is just beyond reasonable. I can SO completely see why people run to alcohol, bad relationships, and other nastiness to simply cover up this sort of pain. Those things would all be so much easier. And, I'll admit, if I didn't have three kids in tow that seem to watch my every move, I'd be pretty tempted to try some of those pain killers! FAIL.

9) Grant will be home in less than an hour which means I have to stuff all of these emotions back down inside of me. I feel like I've unleashed Pandora's box and now I have to try to capture all of the uglies and put them back in the box. FAIL.

10) I have to stop living in the "why" of all of these emotions and figure out the "how" of moving on. I don't want to. I want to sit and stomp my feet and demand that things go back to "normal" - whatever that is. FAIL.

I'm sure by tonight, I will have come up with some positives like finishing cleaning the garage out or finishing the other projects that I'm determined to wrap up today. For now, I'm going to get ready to go pick up a stinky boy that's been in the woods without a real potty or shower. I'd better take a bottle of Febreeze along, too, and leave the lid of the washing machine open and ready for clothing that smells and probably looks like toxic waste! Fun! I'm sure he'll sleep the rest of the day, though!

Roller coasters

After this morning's rant, I'm really kind of spent and don't have a lot to say. The last couple of days have been a roller coaster. One day, I think I'm on the uphill climb and I stay perilously peaked at the top of the track. The next day, I'm slammed downward straight toward the ground.
There are very few days when my track runs parallel with the ground. Those are the days I yearn for - to feel some emotional stability and not constantly feel like the smallest little thing could make my roller coaster plummet toward the ground.

After Grant left this morning (I still haven't heard from him), I knew it would be a rough day. However, I didn't anticipate Dasha's antics and I can never anticipate what Annie might decide to do. My parents took the girls for a couple of hours this afternoon and gave me a few minutes to at least run to WalMart without little chaperones (one who prefaces a trip to the "store" by saying that she'll walk and not ride in the buggy or stroller). After a few moments of standing in the fabric section of WalMart, I gave up and went home to work on laundry and finishing up a couple of other projects. I ended up making Annie some cute little dresses from bandannas (who knew) which at least made me feel like I'd accomplished something for the day constructive.

Every single book I read and everyone I talk to who has walked this journey tells me that the highs and lows will eventually even out. Ugh. That can't happen soon enough, though. And next week will be a major trial for me. Eric will be here for a few days to visit with the kids. Why is it that simply hearing his voice can be my undoing? I get so mad at myself for these responses and then I feel embarrassed and try to hide them which just makes things worse. While the kids definitely need some time with him, the visits are like salt in my open wounds. I feel like a slug on the sidewalk and Beaver Cleaver is pouring salt all over me! Hopefully the highs and lows of this will soon equalize but this will be a major struggle for me. (Some stupid little part of my brain keeps spinning these tales that he's going to walk in the door and things are going to suddenly go back to normal. Didn't say that was even remotely true - I believe the term used was 'not a snowball's chance in heck' - but that part of my brain that craves routine, security, and comfort just keeps playing delusional tricks. I wish I could turn that little part off or convince it that the other sensible parts of my brain are going to stage an ousting to stop the lies). While the big kids will understand when it's time for Daddy to leave, Annie won't and it will just renew her questions and pleas for him. (That, of course, tugs on my heart-strings which causes me to melt down and the whole dang cycle starts again)! While I know it's not completely true, some days, I think death would be easier to deal with than this in and out situation. I'd know where my place was in the world and that little romantic piece of my brain would turn itself off.

Anyway, these are the things that I ponder as I head for bed tonight - riding the roller coaster over and over again, turning off that dumb, unintelligent piece of my brain that believes things will work out, and beginning to Saran wrap my emotions for Eric's visit. The dreams these thoughts will bring won't be conducive to much sleep but maybe I'll bump into the "man behind the green curtain" during my dreams and I can ask him to disengage the romantic side of me - at least for the time being.

Anonymous idiot...

OK, today is not the day to screw with me. Just to set the record straight, Blogger has confirmed Anonymous' identity. Ms. Anonymous is using her work account to make these degrading posts so I could hand over the IP addresses and let her company deal with her. However, I was trying to take the higher road but it might just be too much of a stretch today.

Once again, my children are everything to me - especially right now. I cling to them in an unhealthy way and I'm the first to admit it. Pardon me for wanting my son to have his needs met. And, if you'd read the post carefully, you might have seen that I said there would be consequences for his actions.

As for Dasha, let me give you a little more insight. I just cleaned up cat poop from where she squeezed the cat so hard she pooped everywhere. This is after the incident of her wanting to cuddle the cat and then continually hitting the cat because it didn't want to sit still. Hmmmm??? You think this behavior is acting just like her dad? Wow! I'll remind you that I have 3 education degrees and I know when a child starts abusing animals that it means real trouble. SO, that's where I am with Dasha - REAL TROUBLE! Would you like me to send you my cat for protection? OR, maybe you'd prefer me to wait until she starts taking her pent up rage out on Annie. So, now on top of all of the other drama that seems to beget this family, I'm having to deal with an even bigger psychological problem with Dasha than just her pica, emotional / social and physical limitations and issues that were already present. I so truly appreciate you adding to my growing frustrations this morning. (As I was sitting here trying to figure out how to pay the remainder of the month's bills and worrying about making ends meet, I saw the blog alert pop up with "Anonymous." You are no longer Anonymous, though).

And, as for the mystery texter, the last picture you sent was traceable. Duh! When you use Google Maps to send pictures of houses, those pictures still carry their origin information.

Anonymous, I hope you have a wonderful afternoon seeing as how you're so darn perfect. You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye. Matthew 7:5 Until you can get that darn 2X4 from your own eye, leave mine alone. I'll tend to my own wounds and those of MY family without your help. Thanks!

Snookered...

There wasn't a blog entry last night for a very good reason. I was having a hard time keeping my emotions in between the yellow lines and I knew quite well that anything I posted last night, I'd have to delete this morning! It was one of those days.

Grant was preparing for a backpacking trip. Eric is an expert in this area. I am not. Grant convinced me he needed $50 of food and a new tent (thank you, Tuesday Morning for $30). I fell for it. I shelled out almost $100 to cover his "necessities" for a trip thinking that I didn't want my baby roaming around in 95 degree weather without all of the necessities he needed. The boy snookered me. He definitely didn't "need" a tent and most of the food items he demanded were also beyond necessity. Why did he do that to me? How was I to know? (There will definitely be consequences for the boy but for now, I'm left with a frustrated heart)! Eric should be here dealing with this. He knows the ins and outs of backpacking and would have quickly laughed at Grant when he announced his check list for the trip. Yeah, he video chatted with him about the details and texted him but it's just not the same and being here to actually see him struggling to get the 30 pound (or more) pack strapped on his back but wouldn't let me help him lessen his load (physically and emotionally). My heart just kept cycling through anger, bitterness, sorrow, and sheer frustration.

While all of the camping checklist items were being purchased, I was trying to get Annie's old clothes together to take to the consignment shop, as well. She wasn't very excited about the task which meant she was pulling at me and whining incessantly. Aaahhhhh!!!! After dropping off two huge totes of clothes to the consignment shop, they offered me $10. Seriously? I took all of the clothes and left. Maybe I'll find time to Craig's List them.

Dasha, well, Dasha was being Dasha. Anyone who knows her can tell you that she needs consistent structure or she just gets loony. Structure is the one thing that I've been lax on for the last couple of days. I don't want to have everything hyper-scheduled for the first week of my break! So, Dasha has been eating weird things (erasers, sticks, paper, pencils) and acting like she's two years old. All of that sure didn't help my overall attitude. (I did manage to enroll her in camp for the same week Grant will be at BSA camp - whew)!

Anyway, you can see how my day went. It was one speed bump after another and I think I was the speed bump. It was one of those days when I continued to question, "Why," and then want to pinch myself in disbelief that I'm in this predicament. I know my contributions to our marriage were never what they should have been but how could someone just walk away? It doesn't make any sense to me! Annie saw a commercial on TV this morning with a baby and its daddy and she said, "My Daddy go swing and slide at the park. Not hug." Really. That was at 6:45 this morning. It's kind of hard to move on past that. Annie is his complete mini-me! I don't know how to parent her. She's 99% his and 1% mine. I don't understand her daredevil ways or her persistent spirit. That's just not me. He commented so many times that he was excited to see what she could become. It was important to him because he felt like he was missing important pieces from his childhood and he thought she could conquer the world with the right guidance. News flash, I don't think I'm on the right path! My pleas for peace and no conflict don't register with her and simply aggravate her. How could someone with such grand plans for her just leave? Video chat and abbreviated visits are great but he's not here for the impromptu teachable moments that can change a child's world. He's not here when she sees other daddies on tv and wants her own. He's not here to cuddle her and smell her hair when she gets out of the tub at night. This sucks!

But, it with all of this that I must press on and figure out a means to my financial needs and try to raise these three kids (two entering the teen age realm and one in the terrible twos). (Not much left over for myself). Yeah, I've had plenty of offers to help out but it's just not the same. I've thought about packing everyone up and showing up on his doorstep but, heck, I don't even know where he lives! I'm trusted enough to raise our three kids but not with an address. What happened? This is not who he is at his core! He has to be dying inside. (Then I get mad at myself for even wanting to care about how he feels or justifying his actions). And this is how I begin my first weekend of summer break. With a heavy heart, frustrated, and feeling guilty that I just sent Grant off into the wild blue yonder without even giving him a hug and not having a clue if he even packed TP or deodorant for himself. I hope other boys in his patrol took extras or they might tie him up and leave him in the river!

Here's to another great weekend! Bah!

Naked Airhead Stripper Barbie goes to the pool

Even a child is known by his actions, by whether his conduct is pure and right.
Proverbs 20:11

Today, there weren't any real revelations in my life other than realizing that my plan to tire the children out so they'd all fall into bed tonight did the same thing to me ten-fold! Here's kind of what the plan looked like...

6:30 - Stash Annie in the bed with me when she woke up and let her watch at least one episode of Dora before making me crawl from under the covers. I even planned ahead and put a cup of milk next to my bed so she wouldn't immediately scream for that! OK, I admit that I dozed off and woke her to her saying, "What doing, Mama? Open eyes?" She's moved all of her blankets, books, and lovies from her room onto my bed. Oops!

9:00 - Everyone headed to the gym. Girls go to Kidz Klub. Grant and I go do something mildly intense which won't stress my sprained buttocks! (I'm not kidding! I'm still suffering from my treadmill fumble! I asked Grant to kiss it better but he ran screaming from the room)! Before he got onto the treadmill, I warned him NOT to jump off no matter what kind of text message he got! They say hindsight is always 20/20! Duh!

10:00 - Pick the girls up. Nursery worker explained that Annie had jumped from every conceivable location in the kids' area and eventually landed on her nose resulting in some pretty nasty road rash right down the middle of her face. I don't know if the worker was relieved or shocked when I simply chuckled and said, "At least there's no blood involved." Any bets on that worker's reaction to me tomorrow? She'll probably run and hide in a corner when she sees us coming!

10:30 - Pool. Why does Annie hate the pool? Every other member of this family loves to swim. Annie, on the other hand, detests having water in or around her face. She wraps her feet and arms around you and clings tight like those little red-butted monkey babies do to their mamas when you see them on TV. To top the pool visit off, Dasha took two Barbies along to play with. Of course, one of them is naked. Why is it that they can paint panties on Barbies but not bras? It doesn't make any sense! Anyway, Dasha was making the Barbies swing around the metal pole at the stairs into the pool. She proclaimed, "Look, Barbie is a stripper!" What???? From Grant, I would have been mildly amused and then given him THE LOOK which means, "I'm laughing on the inside but knock it off before I knock you out!" That look still doesn't register with Dasha. I about drown myself and Annie trying to get across the pool and shush her before she made the proclamation again. I asked her what made her think that and she proceeded to tell me that some girls had been swinging around one of the poles on the playground at school and said they were strippers. Perfect! She didn't even understand what it meant. I diverted her away from the steps AND the pole and encouraged Grant to play a game with her. They decided to toss the Barbies and dive for them, expect Barbie doesn't sink. I'd already figured her buoyancy had something to do with her bosoms but Grant quickly offered up another reason. With a very serious look on his face, he simply said, "Blond air-heads!" At least his train of thought led him to believe Barbie was floating due to her hollow head and didn't follow the same train into the gutter that I had! I quickly gave him THE LOOK and decided to crawl out of the pool with my baby monkey still attached to me and take the other joker monkeys home, too. (As I looked back toward the pool on the way to the van, I saw mothers huddled over their children covering their ears as we left and looking at us as if we were crazy! OK, maybe it wasn't that bad but folks just don't understand that I've got my hands a bit full right now)!

11:30 - Lunch. Annie demands mac n' cheese. I obey peaceably. By 11:30, I was too tired to argue with her. At lunch, Grant got very quiet and then asked what would happen if you ate a whole tube of Mentos and then drank diet Coke? Um, no more Myth Busters for him! I tried to scare him into thinking that his stomach might explode from the pressure but he quickly reminded me of all of the "pressure valves" the human body has. I'm hoping he doesn't try this. (What would happen? I'd never thought about the implications of that sort of chemical reaction inside your body. I know I gave Eric Alka-Seltzer once when his stomach didn't feel well and he just puked violently. Hopefully, that would be the extent of the experiment)!

12:00 - N A P time!

Things sort of disintegrated from this point on. Dasha has decided that stretching is optional even though she's staggering around and tripping everywhere. When I forced a stretching session (I started off trying to make if fun), she decided to exude 13 year old attitude and gave me a peace of her mind. Then, I battled Annie about a number of various requests such a using her drum sticks to beat the french door like a drum and drinking out of the sippy cup I'd already prepared instead of making her own choice and dirtying up another cup. And, for the finale, I had to demand that Grant clean his room. The boy's idea of cleaning translates into making piles in new areas of his room. I lost count of how many ways he tried to procrastinate. I started to tell him to forget it knowing that he'd be gone for the weekend on a camping trip and then I'd just do it to my liking, however, I know that doesn't do anything to heighten my parental prowess so I just let him whine. I still haven't gone to inspect the final product. I think I'm the one procrastinating now!

Tomorrow, we'll do it all again PLUS run errands. This should be great fun - kind of like getting your eyebrows tweezed or waxed OFF!

Good night!

Magic after-shave

For the last few weeks, Annie has slept with one of Daddy's shirts. I don't know why she decided to do this. The shirt says, "Dunder and Mifflin." Perfect shirt for a toddler, huh? Tonight, she kept handing me the shirt and saying, "Daddy gone. Daddy gone." Seriously? It's 8:30. Grandma and Papa just left after feeding her an ice cream cone and now we're going to do this kind of drama? I think not! However, she persistently kept handing me the shirt. Finally, she started smelling it. It finally hit me. His smell had worn off. I knew I'd seen some left behind after-shave under the counter so I quickly doused the shirt and gave it back to her. She quickly snuggled up and said, "That's good. I smell Daddy," and went to sleep. I wish it was that easy for all of us. A quick once-over with the after-shave and everything is miraculously better. I'd pay REALLY good money for that kind of after-shave!

After my last day at school until the end of July and Annie's last day with her sitter (she's off to Morocco for the summer to see her family - the sitter, not Annie), I'm ready for a few days of nothingness. The kids did convince me to take them to the pool today which wasn't too bad except for Annie's exceptional loathing of getting her face wet. The other kids at the pool didn't really seem to care that her screams were meant for them! However, there was minimal drama or trauma which means it was a success in my book! I, however, did not make a gym attempt tonight. First, my butt feels like an elephant stepped on it. It literally takes my breath away when I sit down too hard. Can you sprain your butt? Second, I just need a night to crawl under the covers and watch a few episodes of Cosby Show and then fall asleep. Maybe I'll go steal Annie's shirt and cuddle up, too!

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. (John 14.27)

OK - As a side note, for those of you who have asked about the ridiculous blanket on Annie's bed, I wish I could offer you a better answer. Grant was given that blanket at a Halloween birthday party last year and Annie refuses to part with it. She has plenty of other toddler-appropriate blankets which are equally soft and fuzzy but she will only sleep with that creepy puke green spider covered blanket. Believe me, I've tried to convince her to give it up. No use! Not a battle worth fighting right now! I've got to deal with potty training and paci fairies in the next few weeks so the blanket can stay!

Mama's dirty diaper, treadmill failure, and a thankful heart

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!"
Ecclesiastes 4:9-10

So, here's how it works. Just when I think I have things figured out, the rug gets ripped out from under me and I land on my butt. This might be an "A-Ha" moment for some or an "A-ha ha ha" moment for those who see me land but for me, I've lost the ha ha ha part. Those moments now give me the "uh oh" feeling or the "Oh crap, here it comes!" feeling. So, I've decided to stop thinking I have things figured out. I don't. I won't. I can't.

A-Ha moment-
I decided to redeem an old voucher for time at the gym across the street to give me some ME time. I enrolled the girls in the Kids Club area and decided I'd pay the per visit rate for Grant if he wanted to go. After putting Annie to bed tonight, I decided I'd run to the gym and just get on a treadmill. What could possibly happen? Annie was asleep (I doubled checked). Grant was playing on the computer. Dasha was coloring. I could be back home in less than 2 minutes if something blew up. Seriously! About the time I got cocky and started thinking, "Hey, I could do this every night after I put Annie down and burn off those Pop Tarts that I've been eating instead of meals," it happened.

Here it comes moment-
My cell phone was sitting on the deck of the treadmill and I saw it light up with the text from Grant, "Annie is up." Perfect. So, I jump off the treadmill - STUPID - and then land on my butt in front of all of the other true athletes who were in the cardio area. I tried to act graceful about the whole thing and laugh it off but I just wanted to sit there in the floor and cry. Was it too much to ask for 30 minutes to myself? Now, my butt and my attitude are bruised. I'll get over it but, once again, my great A-Ha moment morphed into a Here it Comes kind of moment. (I think Jeff Foxworthy may have tagged these moments as, "Here's Your Sign" moments)!

As a side note, for the few minutes I walked on the treadmill, the huge TV hanging in front of me was tuned to Sex in the City. I'd never seen the show before. Yes, I live in a very sheltered world. However, after seeing just a few moments of the show, no wonder the world is so messed up! In the few moments I watched, I think I saw (read the closed caption) at least four couples in affairs and enough scantily clad boobs to make what the lady running on the treadmill next to me was wearing look tame! (Didn't know it was ok to wear your bra and panties to the gym. Don't worry! I won't be trying this! They'd deem it a fashion malfunction for sure. I guess the door didn't say, "No shirt, No shorts, No service")!

This is just one example from today of how my big ideas fall flat and normally put me on my butt. However, the bright side of all of this is that tonight, I'm not crying about it (as long as I remain standing and don't sit on my tush - ouch). For some reason, I seem to still be laughing. I'm a little scared, though. Maybe I've crossed the line into that clinically insane realm. Oh well, if that's the case, I kind of like it here. The people seem nice and there aren't too many requirements beyond these little people that look like Oompa Loompas and keep running around muttering a weird phrase - "Mama, mama, mama, mama...." They seem pretty nice, too, although the little one with curls looks a little dangerous!

Beyond my critical treadmill failure tonight, I have come to understand a few other things, though. Several weeks ago, I posted that I didn't have any true friends. I knew that it wasn't true as I typed it out. I was just frustrated with a few friends who had always portrayed themselves as one thing and then turned out to be something completely different. I don't have time to figure other folks out right now. I'm having a hard enough time figuring the "new" me out! However, through this whole situation, I have had the strength of several steadfast friends lifting (ok, hoisting after all the Pop Tarts) me up. I can't tell you how incredible the team of ladies I work with are. They don't ask for details, they just offer to help. They don't offer judgment, they just do what they can to foresee my limitations and stop me before I get too far and end up in the ditch. I'm so appreciative for them. I'm going to miss them dearly this summer. Another friend seems to have the gift of knowing what I need before I've even make it public, too. Saturday night, she showed up at my door with some of her old clothes that she couldn't wear any more. After Grant told me that I looked like I had a dirty diaper because the butt of my pants were so saggy, it made me really self-conscious. I know he didn't mean anything by it. In normal child-like fashion, he was merely stating the obvious. Although, I would have much preferred to hear, "Mom, do you think you should buy some smaller pants?" instead of insinuating I'd lost all of my faculties and pooped my pants (doesn't that go along with insanity? :))! Before I'd even told anyone about this, my friend showed up with about six pairs of shorts and capris and some tops. Seriously? Words couldn't express my gratitude. I have to tell you that for the first time since I was 15, I wore a size that didn't have a 2 in the tens place - despite those darn Pop Tarts! I did my own little happy dance and looked in the mirror to make sure that my diaper didn't look droopy! Nope! Anyway, friends have come through in so many ways over the last six weeks. I'll never have enough resources to pay everyone back but not a single thing has gone unnoticed. Even simple things like making a copy for me or grabbing a chair for me during a faculty meeting have meant so much. So, like I mentioned earlier, my comment about not having true friends was a little overly dramatic. I should have said something like, "I can't stand people who play middle school games and say one thing and do another!" That would have been more accurate.

As for the rest of the night, I'm going to try to finish laundry since that darn laundry fairy seems to be on strike again and get ready for my last day of the school year. I was a bit apprehensive about the new principal but he seems to be a good communicator and makes his wishes clear. Heck, I can play just about any game if I know the rules! It's when they don't give you the rule book that things get dicey! (That's my biggest problem with my personal life right now! Where are the rules to this game? I need to know the "If A, then B or If C, then not A" kind of things)! Anyway, I'm looking forward to wrapping things up and spending the rest of the week getting the house back into order and then enjoying the summer! (OK, I'll enjoy the first two weeks and then I'll be whining to go back because I'm bored and tired of hearing my own kids whine)!

For now, goodnight!

The Ring

You flood the Lord's altar with tears. You weep and wail because he no longer pays attention to your offerings or accepts them with pleasure from your hands. You ask, "Why?" It is because the LORD is acting as the witness between you and the wife of your youth, because you have broken faith with her, though she is your partner, the wife of your marriage covenant (Malachi 2:13-14)

Wedding rings have become more about how big or how much money they cost over the last several years. From the fancy proposal to the fancy ring, it's become more about the show than the actual symbolism of pledge and promise. Silly shows like The Bachelor and The Bachelorette just heighten the emphasis on the material side of the rings.

When Eric bought my first ring, I thought it was incredible. He got down on one knee on a trail at Rope Mill park and asked the question. We didn't have any money so the ring was small but represented his promise to me. I remember staring at that ring for the next several months. Every time I looked at it, I was convinced that it was the best ring anywhere and that it held some sort of super powers.

Ten years later, sitting atop the Westin at the Sundial restaurant (moving up in the world), Eric offered me another ring for our tenth anniversary. The ring was beautiful. It had very intricate scroll work and even had an S at the base of the diamond. We joked that it stood for Super Woman (ok, yeah, we said it stood for some other stuff, too). That ring was incredible! He had saved his bonuses for months to buy me that ring. There were a hundred things he could have used that money for but he used it to get me a new ring that was the most perfect ring that was ever created.

I took the ring off two weeks ago. Am I supposed to do that? I don't know! It doesn't feel right to wear it but I feel naked without it. The circumstances say I'm not married but everything legal says that I am. One of my students even asked me if I'd lost it. See? It was so gorgeous that my students even noticed it! This is one of those details that outsiders would probably never even think about. The Ring - to wear or not to wear, that is the question.

I'm not normally sentimental about things but that ring meant a million things to me. I'd thrown that ring at Eric at the height of our problems and then he'd offered it back weeks later when we decided to work things out. It wasn't just a ring. It stood for the trials we'd been through and the journey I thought we were on. Taking the ring off was like taking off dreams, old memories, and admitting that I don't think "we" will ever be again. I even went a bought a cheap ring at Kohls to put on that finger to make the awkward naked feeling go away. It didn't. Wearing the cheap ring just made me feel like I was trying to deceive myself.

For every TV show or movie that you see where the couple splits up and goes their separate ways, just know that it doesn't work that way! This was a puzzle with at least 1,000 pieces that just got dumped on the table. We don't have the box with the picture on it to figure out how everything should go together. I keep trying to jam pieces together that don't fit and I'm just ultimately slowing down the process of finally seeing the big picture and I'm damaging some of the pieces in the process. At this point, I much prefer those toddler puzzles that are wooden and have the little pegs to tightly hold on to. Usually, they also have the picture painted right on the wooden board so you know which piece goes into which hole. This is the kind of puzzle I need right now - dummy proof! Something simple, like shapes or even firetrucks would be nice. I'm tired of the pieces to this huge puzzle that I have. The pieces get turned over so I can't even see the design on the piece and then I can't figure out where they go. I cant' even get the edges complete so I can keep the other pieces in between the navigational beacons! There are days when I feel like swiping the table clean and letting the pieces scatter and fall where ever they may.

The ring was another one of these pieces. I haven't figured out where the piece goes. I'm quite sure Eric would say don't wear it and that's probably reasonable. It's my silly romantic side that keeps telling me that putting the ring away means putting away so many other things that I don't ever want to forget.

(Note: I took the picture of my ring the night Eric gave it back after I threw it at him weeks earlier in a horrific child-like tantrum. Remember, I told you that I was NOT perfect in all of this mess! Who knew that I'd be posting that picture with a blog entry like this back on December 21)!

Conversations with God...

"O LORD, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD" (Psalm 139:1-4).

Over the last week, I've had many conversations with God. I don't feel like they've been monologues. I feel like they've been conversations. Although I haven't heard any audible booms calling my name, my heart has felt those gentle quiet reminders of the Holy Spirit through different scriptures and wisdom which has been imparted on me from folks over the last few weeks. Here are a few of the "conversations" I've had.

• Why does my heart still skip a beat when I hear his voice? Am I stupid?
• Why do I keep having dreams and wake up thinking he's right there next to me?
• Why is this happening? Even stupid people can stay married!
  
• Why have the kids all decided that this is their week to reach full tilt and yearn for Daddy in ways that break my heart?
• Why are the kids having to deal with this at all? I'm having a hard enough time dealing with this as an adult. Grant is trying to stay neutral and feels like he has to pick sides. Dasha is still waiting on him to come home and thinks he's just working. Annie said, "Daddy gone gone," today. Who the heck told her that? She didn't just make that up! I want to know who said that to her so I can... ok, no violence.
  
• Why does the HOA want to pick on me right now? Can't they find someone else to bully?
• If we have to separate church and school, why can't we separate politics and school?
• Why is my Dad mowing the grass, edging the yard, and weed eating less than a year after having a stroke? It's not his responsibility and his health can't tolerate it!
  
• Why did someone leave the markers out so Annie could try her hand at being Monet on my newly painted walls?
• Why is Dasha eating sticks, Pop Tart crumbs, and other weird things off the van floor again?
• Why is Grant suddenly so mad at me?

So, those are just a few of the conversation starters I've used over the last week. The answer to almost every single one of those questions was, "Stop looking for a way to explain why such terrible things happen and look for ideas on how to face the future." That's so much easier said than done! However, I'm finally coming to the point of being able to leave it in God's hands and stop trying to micromanage it.

Tonight, I'm too tired to delve any deeper into the depths of my soul. I will simply head for bed with a prayer that the vivid dreams will cease and the childrens' hearts will... help me with this one! Who in their right mind would pray that a child's heart would grow callused but that's kind of what I want to pray. I don't want them to forget. I just want them not to hurt, cry, and call out and for Dasha, I just want her to have some kind of understanding of the whole situation. I'm not sure what words to use as I pray for this but I'm confident that God knows what I mean. Anyway, a week off was good medicine in some ways but in others, it allowed me to sweep ideas and emotions under the proverbial rug that really needed to be swept into a nice neat pile and tossed into the garbage can! Oh well. Maybe I'll clean underneath the rug tomorrow. I think I'll probably need one of those fancy Dyson vacuums to clean up the mess, though! I sure don't want any of this crap escaping the HEPA filtration system and floating around in the air!

Good night.

Spewage (or sewage) depending on your liking...

"Give me understanding that I may live" Psalm 119:144

This is all I can say tonight. Today made the top five list of crappy days since "IT" happened. I have a horrible headache from coughing all day and my eyes are blurry from crying. I feel like I'm hanging at the end of the rope. So, here are the marvelous things I've decided in my delusional mind. I won't make apologies for my thoughts. This is the real stuff that's eating my soul today.

• I am officially someone's cast-off garbage. He chose her over me. Why? Who knows? He says it wasn't anything to do with her body but, heck, carrying and giving birth to three kids seems to have a pretty lingering impact on certain body parts that just seem more susceptible to gravity now. She now makes him laugh and makes him happy. I just make him angry. I've tried for the last 20 years to be everything to him. Now, I'm nothing. I gave him three beautiful children and walked through fire with him to adopt another one. That means nothing. No points for being the mother of your children or wading through miles of crap to think you were fixing everything.
• I am pretty sure that I'm done with counseling. To have "wise" counsel continue to tell you to keep pressing forward and things will magically get better is crap. I wonder if she's ever been left alone with three kids, a house, and one income. Probably not. It won't magically get better. This will be my life for the next fifteen years, at least! How do I juggle financial complications, Dasha's special needs (mental and physical), a two year old who is her father reincarnate, and an 11 year old who feels the weight of the world, keeping the house and yard in order, AND holding down a full time job and trying to find part time things to help make other ends meet? (Oh, and then add me getting sick to the mix which makes for a lovely state of mind). So, dear counselor, you may have a beautiful degree hanging on your wall but you don't have any real life experience so I bid you farewell!
• I'm going to have to find a new profession to maintain stability for my family. Due to the state's stupid Race to the Top plan, I'm going to ultimately be forced to work on merit pay. Hmmmm... Guess that means that if I piss the registrar off and get a class of lower kids or kids whose parents don't give a crap that I won't pay the bills for that year. I have three freaking degrees - one in neurobiology - and need 30 more hours to have my doctorate and this is what I get. Student loans out the wazoo and a decrease in pay. Makes me feel really great about having to keep my kids in the public schools!
• I'm much more gullible than I ever thought. I believed every lie. Even worse, I believed them and then came to the rescue. I just thought there was a chance that I might get a chance to play the princess. Nope, I was just the understudy. When the star was unavailable, I was the second-best, runner-up wife. He let someone else play the princess role that I'd been waiting for. (If I wasn't trustworthy to be the wife, why am I trustworthy to raise three kids)? The plan was laid long before I even knew my leading role was in jeopardy. Stupid, stupid, me. When did the lies start? How much of the last 20 years have been based on lies? Did that first, "I love you," really even mean that? Never to trust in that department again.
• I made mistakes. As I've written many other times, I'm not innocent in this mess. I am not faultless or blameless. Now, I have to live with those ghosts, as well. Others tell me the whole darn thing is my fault. Maybe. Maybe not. I'm sure Anonymous will be more than happy to throw a few stones at me in this department.
  
• Don't tell me time will ease the pain. The pain of Annie asking to see Daddy in the computer instead of being able to jump into his arms sucks more than you can imagine. Having Grant reach out to me and try to rub my back and wipe my tears goes beyond anything reasonable for an 11 year old. One day he's here, the next, he's gone. Perfect. They ask, "When is he coming back?" I don't have an answer. Dasha asks, "Why is he living with that lady friend?" Can't answer that one either.
  
• I actually have very few true friends. Maybe this isn't a fair assessment but too many folks have taken sides and pushed us to the back. Once again, perfect.
• I'm a pretty darn good handy man who is crippled by my lack of brute force. I've been pretty amazed at how much I can do around the house. However, there are some things that I simply don't have the know how or strength to do! Who am I supposed to call to do these things? I can't afford my own Handy Manny (ok - it's a Disney show, not something dirty). I can't call my dad constantly. He is already working too many hours at his "part time" job and I can't risk asking him to overdo it and end up having another stroke in order to take care of business that he's shouldn't have to be responsible for!
• I'm not too bad at accounting, either. Considering that I'd never paid a bill before and I only let one slip through the cracks, and there's actually a little money left over at the end of the month, I think I did a pretty darn good job! I've learned the art of shopping at Aldi, GoodWill, and Free Cycling! Who knew? Oh, and did you know that things in the Dollar Store aren't always that great of a deal? Maybe you laugh, but I couldn't have even told you what milk, bread, or cheese cost a month ago. I just bought them because we needed them. No coupons. No store hopping for sales. Wow. A month sure changes things! My biggest fear in this department now is trying to budget for running the air? I finally had to turn it on and leave it on today. Although it's only on 78, I'm not prepared for a $400 bill! Just add it to the stack of stress. Never mind the air, what about medical expenses, the van breaking down, and other unforeseen things? Clark Howard and Larry Burkett are great but you can only stretch a dollar so far!
• I'm standing at a cross road about church. If I stay at Watermark, the big kids will need to go to 11:00 service. This works but runs right into Annie's lunch time and nap time. Also, the big kids are expected to serve at 9:00 service. Except, Dasha can't serve due to multiple reasons so what do I do with her? Annie is content to stay for two services but... I can drive to the Northpoint campus but then I'm adding a 45 minute drive and the price of gas. This sounds trivial but when you're dealing with limited mental capacities, something like this can really mushroom into a major decision disaster (like skipping church which was the easy way out this morning).
  
• There are way too many people out there who justify divorce. A couple in our small group met through an affair and are now married and "soul mates." Why is this acceptable? Why do you get to make promises, make commitments, and then bail? You do that with a business contract and someone will have a lawyer crawling up your butt to sue you! Nope. Not with families, though. You simply have to tell them that it's just not working out for you and it's too hard and they give you a "get out of jail free" card to move on to an easier life. Um, where's my "get out of jail free" card? I believe I drew the "do not pass GO, do not collect $200" card. Divorce is just something our society has been desensitized to. News flash - it's wrong unless someone is beating the crap out of you or sleeping around (and then the faithful one gets to make the call). Life is hard. Cowboy up, grow up, and take responsibility for what you helped create and bring into this world! I didn't sign up for this adventure alone and it can't be adequately completed with me as the sole tour guide (or with a second guide issuing commands from miles away)! I've got Gilligan, Ginger, and Mr. Howe competing for my attention and I'm stranded.
• People will justify whatever they want to and you can't change their mind. And Forrest said, "And that's all I have to say about that!"

So, there are my thoughts for today. Between skipping church this morning, driving to JoAnn's to use a Michael's coupon and being told that I'd chosen the one item the coupon couldn't be used for, and then washing my cell phone (I saved it - I think), I'm not in a great place. I am looking forward to getting into the safety of my classroom tomorrow morning and staying there. In that environment, I can put all of this mess on the back burner and focus on what matters, the kids. Kids who love me unconditionally, laugh and mean it, and are truly innocent. Maybe I should have signed up to teach summer school!

In an effort to give myself time to get over this rotten cold, make it through one of the hardest weeks of the school year, spend time with the big kids as they graduate on Friday (seriously, I'm going to calmly sit through a graduation for both kids and look like I'm not losing mind? we never even thought Dasha would make it to this point and now...), and basically keep my head above water, I'm not going to post this week. I know I said I'd post every night but I'll be resorting to good old pen and paper this week. This post should give Anonymous enough spewing to respond to for at least a few days and I just need a break. (Anyone have a tropical island resort they want to share? I'll provide the entertainment and drama)!

(As a side note, it took all of my effort not to use the song, "Goodbye, Earl" from the Dixie Chicks or "Pray for You" from Jaron and the Long Road to Love as the background for today's purging)!

I know that I'm going to look back on this mid-week and scramble to delete it. However, please take note that if you have any other friends going through this situation, be aware of areas they might could use your help or might could simply use someone to stand next to them and keep their mouth shut (the friend's or yours). I had one friend tell me I was Zena and that she'd hold the shield for me while I fought. (She also made a requirement of me not wearing tights and a cape like a superhero but I don't think she was serious. She's seen MUCH worse on some crazy vacation trips)! That was just what I needed. Not advice about who to be mad at, how to express or not express my emotions, or even what I should or shouldn't use to beat my children with (kidding... maybe). She simply wanted to come beside me and hold part of the burden for a while. I think that's what most of us need when we find ourselves in this boat. I'm actually a pretty intelligent person and I can figure most of this crap out given time, patience, and sanity. But, what I need is simply someone to hear me and keep standing there and help lift the shield a little higher. I can handle the sword.

I admit that when I read the Zena text last week, my first thought was to find some kind of Zena costume. Then, I realized that Zena is VERY well endowed. Remember what I mentioned earlier about gravity having a bit of a tighter grip on certain body parts after having a baby? Well, let me tell you that I definitely could NOT pull off the boobs at full-staff look! Yikes! So, this Zena wanna-be is heading to bed with a cup of hot tea. Good night, all!

Oops, I did it again...

"I pondered the direction of my life, and I turned to follow your statutes"
Psalm 119:59

A few months ago, Andy did a message titled "Guardrails." The premise of the series was simply that you need to establish guardrails throughout your life BEFORE an accident occurs. The guardrails are meant to keep you between the navigational beacons and help you avoid disaster. Preferably, those guardrails would be set back several feet from the actual hazard to allow you plenty of space between you and the danger zone.

Eric and I talked at length about this series. It applies to Grant and his friendships, as well as, many aspects of our lives. (Obviously, some of our guardrails were made out of cardboard or had faulty installation but...). Anyway, one of the biggest guardrails that I needed to be mindful of was standing up for my own needs. I'm not sure why I'm so crappy at that. I usually am willing to sacrifice my own needs for that of others in order to keep peace or meet others' needs but sometimes I do it for the wrong reasons. I'm very good at doing this "martyr-style" and I'm even better and doing it and huffing about it afterward. No matter what style I wrap around it, it's wrong if I'm not willing to do it without a grudge. (I'll tell you now before Anonymous does that this was probably one of the worst things I brought to our marriage - right behind being poor a verbal communicator).

As I mentioned earlier, the number one thing that all of the counselors keep saying is that I need to take care of myself. That means speaking my mind in truth and love. Sounds easy, doesn't it? Nope. Not for me. And just so you know, I failed miserably twice today. Once in an IM where I tried to uphold my boundaries and ended up being Super Broom Rider and the next time, I put Grant in a scary place because of my lack of willingness (or ability) to take authority and speak my mind.

Remember our drunken neighbor? (Let me just note that she and hubby both have pretty high profile jobs for the neighboring school board. Glug, glug, glug)! She came banging on the front door this evening like the world was ending. (She probably thought it was going to. In fact, she had all of her clothes on when she came to the door so she must have been planning on going somewhere)! :) Grant ran upstairs to get me when she started beating on the door. I'd just convinced Annie to go to sleep. The minute I unlocked the door, she bolted in with her little dog in tow. She marched straight to the sofa and sat down. (All the while, our cat who is more like Cujo, kept eyeing her little purse dog. I think I was silently looking for a good fight and some payback)! I did note that she wasn't wreaking of alcohol when she entered so I wondered if she was just giving me a heads up that she was going to sick the HOA on me for the weeds and condition of my yard. Nope, the minute her butt hit the sofa, she jumped up and randomly asked Grant to see his room. Grant looked at me in disbelief. He knew his room was a disaster area and we just aren't in the habit of letting anyone roam the upstairs - especially when Annie is asleep. However, crazy lady didn't wait. She took her dog and headed upstairs. Grant followed after her and I was left just standing there. My mind raced knowing that I wasn't defending my boundaries and I sure wasn't speaking my mind. Although, I'm not sure I would have really wanted the words that were whirring through my mind to actually leave my mouth at that moment. About the time Grant, crazy lady, and her dog cleared the top of the stairs, I heard her stupid little rat dog start squealing like someone was standing on its tail. It wasn't just one little squeal, either. It just kept going. (If Grant had been standing on its tail, he'd have moved quicker than that). In chorus, Annie started wailing, too! She had every right to be pissed that some weird howling noise outside her room scared her to death! I ran upstairs to grab Annie and had decided to tell crazy lady that she needed to leave. As I cleared the top of the stairs, she stood there looking at me very confused and just said, "Oh, did we wake the baby?" Really? Yeah! You also woke the neighbor sleeping two streets over!!! What in the world? Finally, I got Annie back to sleep and gingerly pushed crazy lady back downstairs. She then said, "Mama, I think I'd like Grant to watch my dogs this summer." At this point, I was done. I could tell Grant was really addled and I just told her we'd talk to her later and opened the front door. She didn't get the hint so I had to tell her again that I'd email her later.

Beyond trying to figure out what kind extra special "trip" this lady was on, I'd managed to let her waltz into my home, up my stairs, and into my son's room (oh, and she also "chased" the dog into all of the bedrooms with open doors upstairs, too). What happened to the guardrails I'd put in place about maintaining boundaries and speaking my mind? Failed! Ugh. Why is this so hard for me? What would have been so hard about saying, "Please don't go upstairs. I just put the baby down and it's not presentable for visitors"? Man! This is so aggravating. Just once, I'd like to get this right.

After such a long week and looking forward to another long week, I'm worn out. I really just want to give up. If it was just me, I probably would. I'm so tired of everything being a battle and never feeling like I win. (Yeah, I might have lost the battle but I'll win the war... blah...blah...blah). I feel like my prayers aren't clearing the ceiling (I know they are but sometimes you just feel that way) and that everything that was stable in my life has been tossed into the air and is falling piece by piece and I'm running around like I'm some sort of Looney Toon character trying to catch the random pieces before they hit the ground and shatter into a gazillion more pieces. Meanwhile, I have three kids running around my feet making the job even trickier! I call this "whatever mode" and I can vividly count four times in my life that I've been at this place. It's that point where you're at the mountain peak and teetering. You can choose to slide down one easy side of the mountain and wallow in sin and pity and do whatever makes it feel better OR you can go down the rocky and craggy side inch by inch and scrape your butt, legs, and every other imaginable body part and have to stop and take breathers but know that when you get to the bottom, you'll be in the best place. I'm teetering. No lies. I'm teetering. Enduring the heart-break and continuing trauma of the current path I'm on seems nearly unbearable but I know that the destination will be worth the journey. The hurts from all of the sharp rocks and lonely outcroppings will dull with time. But, man, it just stinks!

So, while I cough up my lungs and wait for NyQuil to take me to lala land, I can tell you that in the last month, I've tried to reinforce every guardrail that I have in place to make sure I'm able to keep myself and all three kids right where we need to be. However, on days like today when I screw up so bad, I just want to stop trying. I know I have to press on and rely on God's strength to carry me through but...

The other dent in my day came when I decided to take the kids to the mall today to ride the carousel after I had Grant's phone looked at at the Apple Store. I didn't even think about the memories we had on the stupid carousel until I was trying to hoist Dasha's 80 pound butt up onto one of the horses and hold onto Annie at the same time. After Ansley came home from the hospital, she had tons of medical equipment which made it nearly impossible to take her anywhere. However, one day, we got brave and decided that every little girl needed a carousel ride in their life. We packed up her stuff and took Grant to ride the carousel. Those memories assaulted me as I stood there going around and around with two carousel horses bumping me from side to side like a warped car wash. Although Annie loved her first ride, I hated it. I knew we'd lose Ansley after that ride but I would have never guessed that I would have lost Eric, too.

I'm really not trying to be morbid day after day. I don't walk around moping and droopy. I laugh and have fun at school and with the kids. However, it's when I finally have a minute to sit down at night and sweep the cobwebs of the day from the back of my brain that this junk seems to show up in the dust pan. Gross. So, I guess this is kind of like my garbage can and I'm dumping the cobwebs and other debris in. I think the garbage bag needs to be changed, though, it's beginning to stink!

They just don't understand...

"When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can mortal man do to me?" (Psalm 56:3-4).

Today marks one month. Once again, those scabs that seemed to be healing up have been scratched off to reveal a raw and hurting heart. It still only takes a single word of remembrance to bring me to my knees. Today, the word was simply, "Thanks." A random IM about a bill and the response was, "Thanks." That was all it took. I absolutely HATE not being in charge of my emotions. They are like a rogue child that was just given a six pack of Red Bull, shaken up, and let loose at Six Flags. You just never know when it's all going to blow up! As a control freak, it irritates me that something so little (and I'm sure quite insignificant from the delivering end) could issue such a blow. Ugh.

This drama was coupled with the drama of receiving a pretty ugly note from Cobb EMC today. Seriously? Do they not know what I'm going through? They don't seem to care that I've NEVER paid bills before and somehow overlooked their stupid bill for $149.54! They also don't seem to care that I managed to pay every other bill without screwing it up. Seriously? This is one of those situations that I keep talking to Grant about. You just never know what someone is going through so extend grace and mercy (without being a door mat). I'll never forget leaving Egleston hospital and trying to beat the ambulance back to our apartment. We had a team of doctors and nurses delivering Ansley back home (basically to live out her last couple of days in a warm and nurturing environment). My mind was definitely not 100% focused on the traffic on 285. I guess I inadvertently cut someone off and he used the middle-finger salute to me as he passed by. I vividly remember thinking, "I wonder how he'd feel if he was driving home to receiving his dying daughter?" Anyway, I had those same feelings today with the Cobb EMC representative. It also didn't help too much that I couldn't hardly understand a word of her broken English!!! However, they'll get what THEY want in four days when the ebill clears my account. Geez! (In my defense, it would sure help if they actually sent me a real paper bill so I'd know how much they wanted to sap me for)!

Anyway, this is how I've spent my 1 month anniversary of being alone. SUCKS LARGE!

Now, off to bed for more NyQuil and a prayer that this blasted bronchitis will disappear (along with the black cloud I'm letting hover over my head - call it a pity party or whatever you like but it's where I am tonight).

Good night, all!

(Oh, and just in case you caught the nude picture link that Anonymous posted on an older post this morning, consider yourself lucky. That's pretty low and gross)!

I'll have a dump truck full of mercy, please.

"Be merciful to me, O LORD, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief. My life is consumed by anguish and my years by groaning; my strength fails because of my affliction, and my bones grow weak" (Psalm 31:9-10).

Tonight, there are no words. I'm tired and sick. While the big kids understand that mom isn't feeling well and managed to stay under the radar, Annie doesn't get it (and shouldn't have to). I'm headed to bed in hopes of sleeping off this fever and cough. It's nights like this when I need back up and a very big dose of mercy!

Crazy train...

"I am worn out from groaning; all night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears. My eyes grow weak with sorrow; they fail because of all my foes. Away from me, all you who do evil, for the LORD has heard my weeping. The LORD has heard my cry for mercy; the LORD accepts my prayer" (Psalm 6:6-9).

Sometimes, I read way too much! I'm the crazy patient who hears a word in a medical office, goes homes and Googles it, and makes a determination on how many more months I have to live. Today, I read something that I think it totally true, though. It said that during "normal" life, you split your energy between emotional, spiritual, physical, and mental activities. However, during times of high stress, up to 85% of your energy is diverted to emotions. This would sure help me justify some of my nutty actions lately! However, the article did NOT place a statute of limitations on these stats! Does this mean that I can still claim that I'm mentally incapacitated in five years? :) Shoot, I tried to make pregnancy related crazy claims well into Annie's 3rd month of life. By month 6, I think folks had caught on that my mental capacity had been permanently compromised and it had nothing to do with pregnancy! Aren't you supposed to ride the crazy train as long as you can? (I'm beginning to think my ticket was booked for a non-stop, round trip ride to no where that will take an eternity)!

Seriously, although almost a month has passed, I still waiver emotionally at times. I've had the distractions of changes at school, different job responsibilities, and my own kids asserting their mental incapabilities on me. This has helped keep my mind going on a hundred different things other than my personal life. I think that's good right now. As I've said before, I don't do too well with emotions. Also, this time of year there are days when it takes that 85% energy level just to keep my emotions zipped up and not let them burst out. Other days, it takes that 85% energy level to keep 24 students from usurping my kingdom and throwing me in the dungeon like Desperaux! Today, they all started chanting at field day and I had that really scary feeling again that I was terribly out numbered! (I say this jokingly. I love my class dearly and I'm not looking forward to seeing them go next week)!

So, my point for this entry is simply that I'm claiming to be short on mental energy these days so I'm going to go ahead and warn you. When you see me sitting in a corner and babbling with drool running down my face, you'll know I'm diverting energies from other areas to deal with my emotional deficits! (I don't have the Energy Star logo stamped on my butt so I'm not too energy efficient and can only handle one major task at a time)!

Hope everyone has a great night! I'm off to bed with a bottle of Robitussin! Bottoms up and lights out!

The Princess Factor

OK, so last night, my thoughts were focused on Grant. Tonight, it's the girls I'm thinking about. I'm going to keep this simple tonight. I'm not going to whine or complain. I've done quite enough of that lately!

My "a-ha" moment on this subject came a few years ago. It was one of those moments when it was like I was handed a puzzle piece that had been missing from my "big picture" for years. Simply put, "Every female wants to feel like a princess."

Since Annie was old enough to talk, she frequently tells us that she's cute and may even repeat it several times until you acknowledge her and reaffirm her thoughts. (It brings back memories of that SNL skit with Stuart Smalley - "I'm good enough. I'm smart enough. And, gosh darn it, people like me")! If you tell the girl she's cute or give her a crown or princess costume, she just lights up. The same holds true for Dasha. I can't think of any little girl on the face of the Earth that doesn't light up when they feel cherished and like the most valued princess in the world. (OK, yeah, there's a line when princess crosses into diva and I begin to get a little uncomfortable but I'm ok with plain old princess)! :)

However, as I thought about the girls lighting up at the thought of being a princess, I wondered what was driving that motivation. At first, I thought of the zillions of Disney movies and fairy tales where the princess meets Prince Charming and they live happily ever after. But, hey, Annie hasn't seen those movies and she's already motivated by the princess factor. Then what is it? I sure don't walk around in a crown and jewels and encourage the girls to follow suit. (And, if you were looking in the window that one time I did, keep your trap shut - kidding)! After a long time of dwelling on this, I've come to realize that it's something girls are born with- an innate need to feel like a princess and be treated like one. When girls are little, it's about the costume and tea parties and castles. As they get older, it's about Prince Charming (and possibly still the castle). But, if you follow the progression, I quickly realized that you don't ever grow out of this need. Every female must have this need down deep inside to be that princess. However, maybe someone should just stop me now and tell me to add this to my list of "Things to talk to the therapist about." I admit to being a hopeless romantic and I filter everything through my little pea brain with a lens that reads, "What this would look like in a fairy tale..."

If you have girls in your home (young or old), think about this and see what you can do to enhance their princess-ness. Tonight, Grant was out so dinner was by candle light and we wore alumnim foil crowns. (My budget is a bit on the shy side this month so the diamonds and rubies will have to wait until next month or at least wait until I can find the old Bedazzler with the fake jewels)!

If you've ever seen the movie Enchanted, I admit that I got a little confused that princesses weren't all supposed to be thrilled about cleaning. Oops. The girls quickly set me straight, though.

In all seriousness, so many of our young girls are falling by the wayside for hundreds of reasons. I think one of the biggest things that pushes some of those girls over the cliff is the need to be the princess. Think about it, how many teen pregnancies have happened because someone's little girl simply wanted to be the princess for Prince Charming?

OK, I've rambled on about this way too long and I'm not even sure I made sense. I've just had the realization that my girls want to be princesses and there's nothing wrong with that. It's part of something very special in the way God designed them. However, I've also figured out that I want to be a princess, too. So, when you see me out in public places wearing a way too small Cinderella or Snow White costume, please don't be alarmed. Just tell me if any major body part is hanging out of the costume and kindly help me shove it back in so I can go on my way. Also, if I suddenly burst into song as most Disney princesses are prone to do, don't be too shocked, either.

Sadly, for some of us as adults, we have to put down those princess dreams momentarily to tend to raising the next batch of princesses.

Life is like a box of chocolates...

Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life. Proverbs 4:23

At this point, my life is like a storehouse full of boxes. (Or, I guess this would be where Forest says, "My life is like a box of chocolates"). Each box contains some different scene from my life. Some of the boxes are worn because they contain favorite scenes that I love to look at over and over again. Some of the boxes have been duct taped shut and moved to the back of the room so they're out of daily view. Today, one of those boxes I'd pushed to the back accidentally got knocked over and spilled out as I was trying to rearrange the other boxes.

As I dropped Grant off at my parents' house tonight for scouts, I suddenly saw Grant as a teenager. Not my little Grant but a full fledged teen. He stood taller than my mom and almost taller than my dad. He was standing there with his new "cool dude" clothes on that were graduation gifts. He was talking about band try-outs today and the big field trip they're taking tomorrow on motor coaches. It was like an out of body experience. The gentle giant is man-sized and doing man-sized things! Ugh!

As the thought of his manhood assaulted every emotion in my body, I seemed to be running around like a nut job in my storehouse full of boxed memories and ran face first into a box that I've been packing and repacking and trying to keep the lid closed. The box spilled out all over the place and it's going to take me all night to repack it. Who will help Grant become the man he is to be? I'm in left field when it comes to this man stuff. From the stench, to the fur, to the matters of the heart, I'm incapable. I know that God will put people into our lives to help mold and shape him and, yes, my dad is near but it's just not the same. This is one of those dreams that I'm having to readjust. Man, this was NOT the box I needed to flip over tonight. This isn't like a, "Hey, Merv! Clean up on aisle 4," kind of spill. This is more like the CSI, police tape, crime scene kind of mess where they need hazmat suits to get it all under control. Ugh.



Meanwhile, as I ramble on here, the girls are both playing grocery store and watching Dora together as if they are the same age. There are some nights it bothers me to see Dasha engage in play so fully at a 2 year old's level. However, tonight isn't one of those nights. I'm just glad the girls are busy.

On a brighter note, the meeting with the new principal went well. The most notorious of phrases that will usher in this new era of administration will be, "No cracks in the front or back showing!" OK, I admit that I took me a minute to figure out that the front crack was cleavage. Geez! However, I like his style and I'm looking forward to change next year. While we're shaking up the Boggle cube, we might as well make sure every darn letter gets jiggled and flipped thoroughly! (And to be honest, I'm just hoping the letters don't land to spell out any special four letter words this time)!

As for my assignment as the "Boot Camp Instructor," we had fun. There are only four students (all boys) and we had all sorts of contests. I even took the Nerf gun (number chooser - not a "gun" if you're on school property) and let them collect points by shooting at the board with the suction cup darts. Talk about motivation! I bet I could convince them to pass the SAT if I'd had a real BB gun (or a live target - such as myself)!

It's only 6:00 but the girls have been fed and I'm ready to head to bed and knock out the rest of this cold. Grant has to be at school tomorrow morning before 6:30 so my beauty sleep is going to be compromised! It hasn't been a very monumental day and normally, I wouldn't have ever bothered to post on a day like this. However, in my quest to maintain a journal of my crazy ups and down over the next few days, weeks, and months, I offer up the spilled boxes, Nerf darts, and a big 'ole box of chocolates! However, right now, I'm identifying more with the phrase, "Run, Forest! Run," than, "Life is like a box of chocolates!" If there was chocolate in this house right now, I'd be locked in the closet chowing down on it!

As for my Anonymous friend, I know I can turn the comments off on the blog. However, seeing how truly sad this person is kind of makes me feel better about myself. :) Have you ever watched some else's kids act like complete fools and looked at your own and thought, "I'm a pretty darn good parent?" I guess the comments are a little like that. For now, Anonymous can comment all she wants. (I've looked into having the address traced and all sorts of other things but...). Maybe this sounds really twisted but I guess it's a little like knowing who the competition is!