A Big A** Mess

It's rainy today and we all slept in, late, very, very late. Feeling guilty as other people's children were staying here as well, I decided to make a nice breakfast. Now, I don't like to cook, but breakfast now that's my specialty. Only problem was we were limited on clean dishes since we had run out of dishwasher detergent and dish soap two days ago. "No problem, I'll just use little plates and pull out some pots and pans we don't usually use."

Breakfast was good.

Still raining out and it felt like a good day for homemade soup. Homemade vegetable chili at only 3 points a bowl, without having to go to the grocery store for any ingredients... awesome! More dishes... not so awesome.

While trying to put the extra three individual servings of soup in the fridge, I realized that there was NO WAY they were going to fit. I admit it, I leave cleaning out the fridge for as long as humanly possible...and today was humanly possible. So, out with the old and outdated. Out with the disgusting and putrid, out with thirty-million Tupperware containers (that's where they all were), out with the crockpot, no kidding, the entire crockpot.

Sent hubby to the store for detergent, EMERGENCY!

One dishwasher full, three sink-loads of dishes, one full load of cookie sheets, and all the refrigerator drawers and guess what time it is.... 5:30. Yep, just in time to make dinner. Damn.

A Perfect Day

It's a perfect, beautiful day! Love 65 degrees and the most gorgeous fall leaves everywhere! Missouri really is beautiful in the fall. It makes me remember when I was a kid and I'd walk home from school crunching all the leaves in the gutters. Or, running and jumping into a huge pile of them.

I love fall for pulling out sweaters, football games and crisp air, apple cider, pumpkin pie and the richness of colors everywhere. This has always been my season!

Determination

Well, I've done it. I've faced the scale, the mirror and the horrifying reality that I am headed in the wrong direction. It's not new, just evident. When last year's fall wardrobe isn't looking like it did last year and last year wasn't all that, well, I can't lie to myself any longer. I have every excuse there is... too busy... working nights... too lazy... too convenient to pick up food... hate cooking... God doesn't care what size I am... too stressed... too emotional... etc...etc...

I guess what I'm sharing is that I'm tired of being the undisciplined sort. I'm determined to put caring for myself into my daily routine. It's been a bit of a wake-up call to think about my hubby's future mobility and my future ability to help take care of him, to enjoy life with him. Thinking about it, skating around the subject and downright ignoring it are not helping. It's time. Man, I feel like a statistic; it's depressing.

So, it is with a decent amount of determination and a wee bit of hope that I've started going to the doctor again (that's why I pay for health insurance right?), joined the dreaded Weight Watchers, and am actually forcing myself to take vitamin supplements. I'm even making an effort to actually do the exercises assigned by the chiropractor and plan to implement an exercise of some sort when released to do so. I feel like I'm in full blown mid-life now. That's the depressing part. When did I get this old?

Here's the part where I'm going to be brave... I'm putting it out there... anyone who knows me won't be shocked... I have a total of 94 pounds to lose to hit my ideal weight. (Seriously thinking about hitting the backspace button here.) That is more that Songbird's entire body! It's going to take at least a year, and that is if there are no setbacks, no moments of weakness that creep up on me and if I stay committed. But here's the thing, I don't think I'll make it if I just look at 5 or 10 pounds as a goal. I think I'll just stop there and give up. I think I have to tackle the entire enchilada, okay bad analogy. The whole wheat tortilla, filled with low fat chicken and low fat cheese, covered in a spicy (to still have taste) sauce! Ha!

Anyway, pray for consistency and determination please... this is no longer a want, it is a need.

Sugar or Splenda

It has been recently brought to my attention that I am blunt. I can't say that this news comes as a surprise, but seriously, I thought I was doing a much better job at tempering my comments. I cannot tell you how many times I mull over what I really want to say and try to cushion it in a response that is encouraging, and overall, well, sweetened up a bit. Maybe, all this agonizing over words isn't fooling anyone. Maybe, it's like the difference between sugar and Splenda. Splenda may parade around as actual sugar, be a derivative of sugar, and have "healthier" attributes, but let's face it, it ain't sugar!

Blunt? It sounds so offensive, why not honest, or forthright. Blunt can be a time saver, you know. Haven't we all had a friend that sucked the life blood right out of you with the one millionth version of the same ol' problem? You know the one, the one that made you start screening your phone calls (thank the Lord above for answering machines.) Anyone can spoonfeed Splenda and dance around the solution to the problem, hand-hold over the problem and then rehash the problem once again. I seriously just don't have the patience anymore.

I have a rule. No more high maintenance friends. Those that are still around have been grandfathered in by time and high school shenanigans, okay okay, they have too much dirt on me to be cut loose. They are the reason I can never run for political office. But all new friendships must be of the sugar variety. There really is no substitute for the real thing. I guess that means that, yes, by choice, I'm blunt.

My Kingdom

Ah, my kingdom, my kingdom for a margarita.

I Can Smell Dinner

I'm feeling accomplished today. Dinner in the crockpot, cookies cooling on the counter, homeschool finished for the day. Just waiting for Songbird's choir concert and then we will eat. Sounds very Betty Crocker doesn't it? Are you jealous? Does it sound like I have it all together? Well, it is true until you consider the following:

The kids hate crockpot dinners and probably won't like this one either. It has onions, which means Prince Lawn Gnome will pick at it until I can't stand looking anymore. He'll no doubt eat only the pieces of sausage and still be hungry at midnight.

It's a new recipe, which means that no one will like it, because those don't usually go well for me.

Homeschool may be finished for the kids, but not really for me. I have a mountain of grading to do and seriously, I don't want to. It's like I'm being punished for all those years that I only half paid attention to my teachers.

Songbird's choir concert. Yeah, well, I'm forcing her siblings to go. I've instructed them that they have to pay attention. They cannont under any circumstances eat from the vending machines as dinner will be waiting when we get home. I don't care if they think it's boring. I don't care if they don't feel like it. We're going as a family to support her despite the fact that she has a cold and probably won't perform very well anyway.

The Best Mother In Law

It's hard to watch any sitcom without the usual mother-in-law jokes. I laugh at them, but I don't identify with them at all. My mother-in-law is GREAT (and I'm not just sucking up). She raised a caring, responsible, loving son. She embraces her children and their spouses fully, warts and all. It is a joy to be around her, really.

One of my favorite things to do when we visit is to listen to her tell a story. She has a particular talent for weaving a story together over a kitchen table and a cup of coffee. It is a lost artform. You'll laugh, you'll cry and somehow you'll learn all about the people that you've lost contact with and feel that you haven't missed a beat. She can bring a disconnected world into the perspective of small town charm effortlessly.

But don't let the softy, grandma reputation fool you. Just under the surface is a ferocious tiger if her family is endangered or perhaps if she's playing cards. Cunning and sly served best with a smile, my favorite combination.

So, it is with great pleasure today that I wish this great mother-in-law of mine a "Happy Birthday!" I hope it is filled with as much grace, love and kindness as you. I love you dearly.

Restless

Lately, there has been a restlessness deep within that I cannot shake. I want to shake it free, I want to wrap it up neatly and put it back on a shelf, back to the dusty recesses of my heart and mind and leave it there. That is, after all, where it belongs. But, I can't. I can't seem to let it go. I can't stop thinking about my Dad.

Every few days I have this nagging feeling that I should call him, but I don't. Part of me knows that our relationship as father and daughter has run it's course. He knows it. I know it. Why pretend? It's too painful to pretend. And yet, I can't seem to let go. For so long I've wanted to just let by-gone's be by-gone's, to just move on, to be free from relational guilt so why is it so hard to let this relationship go? Why is it bothering me now? Why is this creeping up on me?

I know that as an adult, as a Christian that I should honor my father. I should be willing to take the first step, but the true heart of me knows I shouldn't be the one making the overtures.

Thinking back, I remember a picture from my childhood. I was around five years old. In the picture I have my arms around my Daddy's neck and I am squeezing him for all I'm worth. Because, when you're five and you want to show someone you love them you squeeze really, really hard because more is always better. That's the last time I remember feeling that way about him. And that's what I want to just put back on the shelf, that memory, that time, that part of our relationship that was genuine and real.

It's not like that now. I'm restless. I cry. I lose sleep. And why? Why am I doing this to myself? Why can't I just let it be?

Top Ten Reasons I May be Headed to the Looney Bin

10. The lack of cleanliness for which I am subjected on a daily basis. i.e. the band aid I found stuck to the couch cushion today (the top of the cushion, I was afraid to look underneath).

9. Homeschool and Algebra II... damn fractions I never got them the first time around.

8. The repeated visits to the chiropractor for which I always come home feeling worse.

7. What must be an unusually high volume of hair loss in the shower. Am I going bald?

6. The reality that my comfort eating is worse than ever (stress!!!!) but I have NO TIME to attend Weight Watchers and no money for a more convenient solution (liposuction).

5. All family members have outgrown their fall wardrobes simultaneously. My hubby for lack of smoking, me, well, we already discussed this, and each kid looks like they are waiting for the flood to arrive any day now.

4. Car repairs and the unknown $ amount they represent.

3. Flu season in the urgent care. I truly understand job stress now and why people play the lotto.

2. Did I mention the messiness of the house?

1. No me time!

Back by Popular Demand

Okay, okay I hear you. Remember when I said I was an undisciplined sort? Well, this last month off from blogging proves it. I went on vacation, accepted a promotion (sold my soul to the devil) and it all went downhill from there. Now, I catch myself wanting to blog, but usually that is when I'm at work and since I'm trying to be "a good example" I must refrain. Then I get home, and well, if you saw my home, then you'd understand.

I've caught myself frequently daydreaming of the Bahamas and the life of luxury I left there. No servants came home with me, no constant buffet of food (that I didn't prepare), no swimming pool with a pineapple umbrella drink waiting for me. No alone time with my hubby.

Now we're back to the usual. The usual strewn laundry from one teenager's bedroom to the other. The usual strewn dishes from kitchen to T.V. to basement to the depths of Prince Lawn Gnome's lair. Back to the usual ringing cell phone, barking dogs, stress of homeschool and work. Is it too soon to take another vacation?

Yes, I miss the teal water. I miss the perfect breeze from the beach. I miss gazing at the stars from the ship's deck. I miss having a romantic dinner with my hubby every night. I miss the peace. I miss the quiet. Now, I know why the lady that's been on 81 cruises has returned so many times. It's Post Vacation Stress Disorder!