The Mommy Wars - Rantgirl Weighs in‏

I'm mad. I'm mad and I'm sad. I'm Smad. (Bonus points if you get the reference.)

How is it that in 2013, there are still people who ask the question of Stay at Home Moms: "What do you do all day?" Is this a joke? How is this still happening? I can only assume that the people that are asking the questions are not experienced in the realm of motherhood and are therefore completely ignorant and are legitimately seeking the answer to their question. I mean seriously, how is this still a topic? Did they not have mothers?

People are so stupid.

Can't we all just agree that it's ALL work? Working is work, and being home is work and anyone who has spent any time at all around children knows that children are work. Right? So how is this still an issue?

I want to tell the stay at home mommies to shut the heck up sometimes when they cry about not being recognized as "working". Listen, girls, we all know that you work, okay?

I wonder if we have a jealousy thing going on. The ones who stay home are jealous of the ones that get to leave their house and wear pantyhose and talk to other adults, while the ones who work are jealous of the ones who get to stay home and wear yoga pants, don't necessarily have to shower that day and can kiss the smooshy faces of their babies whenever they want.

I know that I'm jealous. When I have those days where getting out of bed is a chore and I'm having a bad hair day and I hate all my clothes, I still have to get up and leave my bed and shower and get dressed in something "professional" because guess what happens if I don't? I don't get paid. If I do it often enough? I get fired and never get paid. And then I can't feed my children. I'm pretty sure that's an important thing in the role of a mother - to feed your children.

You want to talk about jealousy? How about the working mom who works from home, but hires a nanny to come and play with her children so that she can work? Those moms don't get to join in the conversation. I want to punch those moms.

Maybe I have the wrong friends, but I keep seeing these "Heck ya, I work, I stay home" type of posts and it makes me wonder about the working mom. What about her? Where is her voice? Well, for one, she's too busy to pipe up. She goes to work and works all day only to come home and work all night (or vice versa). What about those moms? What about the moms who leave their babies and go to work and hate themselves because all they want to do is stay at home with said babies?

I can't even talk about single moms who have no choice but to work. Single moms have a special place reserved for them in heaven. This one time DH and I took Huey and my two nephews to the beach; they were all around three years old at the time. Oldest nephew lived on an island and was best friends with the ocean, so tore off as far from us as possible and dove head first into the roaring surf. Huey and DH skipped along in the tide pools, wandering along at their own pace, stopping to look at crabs and weird seaweed and anything else that caught their fancy. Youngest nephew lagged far behind because he had tripped in a tide pool, got tangled up in seaweed, and was paralyzed with fear. O.N. was too far away to hear my shrieking pleas for him to return, and Y.N. was freaking out, so knowing that my son was perfectly safe with his father, and fearing for the lives of the sons of my sisters, I ran back, scooped Y.N. into my arms and raced to the surf to haul O.N. out of the ocean and to play within a safe distance. Just as I was walking towards DH and Huey, dripping wet, dragging a soaking O.N. by the hand and carrying a sobbing, drenched Y.N. in my arms, my mother and brother arrived with towels and her famous beach bag. She was laughing at me and said, "Can you imagine? I did this with FOUR of you all by myself! What was I thinking? It's amazing none of you drowned." Like I said, MAJOR props to the single moms.

Back to the working moms; what about them? The ones who get up and get their kids ready for their day while getting ready for their own day, to go to work and do things all day for other people only to come home and make the dinner and do the laundry and clean the dishes and supervise the homework and read the books and put the ones to bed. Forget it if there's a sporting event, musical instrument concert, or scout meeting to attend. What about those amazing jugglers who sometimes don't even manage to get out of their pantyhose until ten o'clock at night? Pantyhose can be itchy, you guys; it's annoying and ugly and expected for you to wear if you want to look like a professional.

When Huey was two I changed jobs and we had no choice but to enroll him in preschool. Every day for a year when I took him into school he cried. His teacher would have to peel him off me every day. Then I would go into my car and cry; every day for a year.

When I went back to work after Dewey was born, he wouldn't take a bottle. He would scream and scream, but he would not take that bottle. One time DH called me at work, I could hear Dewey screaming in the background and my milk let down immediately. "Just come home as soon as you can." He said, and hung up. I hung up, told my boss that I had to go home, she understood what I was going through, and raced home. I could hear Dewey panic-crying from the elevator. I rushed down the hallway, unbuttoning my blouse as I went. After some intense internet research, DH figured out how to get Dewey to take a bottle and things got better, but I can't tell you the guilt I felt for having to leave my baby every day.

I'm only going to mention the humiliation of trying to find a discreet place to pump so that my children wouldn't have to have formula.

We were blessed where DH and I worked opposite shifts for the most part, so I mostly left my baby boys with their daddy. This lessened my guilt a little, but only a little. What kind of a mother leaves her children for hours every day? I wished so much I could just be with them. I wished that I was the one changing their diapers and watching The Bear in the Big Blue House and Blues Clues and Thomas and Bob the Builder. I wanted to be the one to play blocks and trains and cars and make forts and puppet shows. I would get up every morning and look over at my sleeping boys and be so jealous of their father who got to spend all day with them.

DH and I fight constantly because the house is a mess, but I don't have the energy to clean after working all day and then attempting to be there for my boys all night. I admit that my guilt drove my over compensating. I would come home from work and just do whatever the little ones wanted because I felt so guilty for leaving them all day. We would play and read and watch movies. There would be some semblance of dinner, but my little boys were my first priority. Dishes and laundry could wait, but then DH and I would fight about how nothing got done around the house.

You stay at home moms who get the "what did you do all day?" question? You're not alone. I would get it too. DH would go to work at 3pm when I got home. He would come home for dinner at 7:30 and see that the house was still a mess and that there was no dinner yet, and he would ask, "What have you been doing for the last four hours?" The answer is I've been paying attention to my boys to make up for all the time I've missed today! Now that he's home and he sees what my evenings are like, he's backed off a little, but we still fight about this and Huey is thirteen!

Our babies are only babies for so long. The time goes quickly and I feel like I missed out on so much of my babies being babies. Dewey is nine and perfectly capable of taking care of himself. My guilt has lessened somewhat now that they are both in school while I am at work, so I don't miss out on being with them during the day. There are still those times when they're home sick or on school holiday that I can't be with them during the day and I hate it. I still wish I could be a stay at home mom.

Sometimes I feel like our children need us more when they're teens and trying to navigate themselves into adulthood than when they're little.

I've taken vacation time just to stay home and live the life of a stay at home mom. I still can't get everything done. It may just be me, but my vote is that raising children is all encompassing, and it's work.

You guys, being a mother is WORK. We are all mothers. We need to love and support one another in our roles as mothers. I'm not saying that anyone has it any better or worse than anyone else. We all have it hard. I just wanted to give a voice to the moms who have to leave their children every day in order to put food on the table.

I don't want to fight. I'm too tired to fight.

I'm sorry, do I know you?

The other week I was having a particularly hard time being in public, but it was a Sunday and I had to go to church, so I pushed through and actually stayed for all my meetings. I sat in Relief Society on the edge of the row, wishing I was invisible, trying to blend in with the chair, writing in my journal and keeping to myself. It worked out, the meeting ended, I put my chair away and attempted to make my escape.

A girl who is new and just moved into the neighbourhood stopped me and said, "Excuse me, but I just kept looking at you the whole meeting, and I was wondering, do I know you?" I looked at her, and not recognizing her, said, "I don't think so." She asked me if I had lived in the neighbourhood a long time, and I told her seven years, and she couldn't figure out where she would know me from and I told her I had one of those faces and quickly made my exit.

A few things:

• I feel terrible. My reaction was like a deer in headlights; I just wanted to run away. I was completely caught off guard and therefore incapable of putting together complete sentences.
• I would have loved to have tried to figure it out, but I totally didn't recognize her, and I do have one of those faces; people always tell me I remind them of their cousin, neighbour, roommate from college, friend from high school, etc.
• I have only been blonde for six months, so even if I did know her from the past, I don't look like I did.
• She's new to the area and doesn't know anyone, yet she had the courage to talk to me and I was weird and uncomfortable around her. I hope I didn't freak her out.
• I really hope she didn't feel like I was weird or blowing her off or like I thought she was weird. I am glad she approached me, but I was in such a bad mental place that I just couldn't function in public that day.

I was mentally frozen and speechless and unable to pursue the conversation fully and truly hope she didn't think I was being rude and hope she will forgive me. I hope that at some future date that she will figure out where she knows me from or who I remind her of and that she's not afraid to approach me at a later time because of the way I acted.

Sometimes I should really just not interact with humans.

There's nothing good on the radio

Except for this. Thank goodness for Chvrches. They're Scottish too, which makes them all the more excellent.

I've posted a few times about how there are times when I can't find anything good on the radio, and this is one of those times. (I hear you, Ducky)

Sometimes I get so frustrated with the radio that I can't listen to it any more and I just turn it off.

I'm my own worst enemy when it comes to this because I have yet to stock my car with my favourite CDs, but I've found that when I'm in these moods even the best of the best of music to take me out of my mood sounds bad and that just ruins it for me, so silence is the best option.

I still love you, Sirius, I just think we need to take a break right now.

What would I do without the Radio?

Back in the olden days, before the internet was born, I had very limited means to introduce me to new music. Basically, I had the radio.

My first foray into the music world was the influence of my best friend’s older brother, who introduced me to “Glass Houses”. We also had neighbours who would blast their music and a few of my friends had older siblings.

When I was nine, my grandfather passed away and I inherited his clock radio. It had a sleep function (and an analog, not digital clock), so I would fall asleep listening to CKLG. I loved listening to the radio and dreamed of being a radio personality one day.

When I got older, I started going to church dances and was introduced to alternative music. What a golden time for me! I learned all about The Smiths, The Cure, The The, etc. It was so wonderful and I will be forever grateful to Hanu, Don, Mark, Taylor, Bryce, Kate, Ted and a bunch of others for bringing this genre of music into my life.

Once I was introduced to alternative music, I had to learn about more bands, so I started reading music magazines like Smash Hits and Spin. I also read The Georgia Strait which is a local music newspaper in Vancouver. Sometimes when I’m homesick I’ll check it out online.

I could never afford to buy much music as a youth, so I did a lot of research before investing in an album. One of the ways I would know if the album was good was if 3 or more songs were played on the radio. Unfortunately, Vancouver didn’t have an alternative radio station until I was in my very late teens and early twenties. I did listen to CFRO – and independent station, and CITR, the station at UBC, but their signal was very weak in Langley/Cloverdale and you had to listen at the right time, and I had a lot of things pulling for my free time. (boys, school, parties, babysitting, boys, the mall).

We used to love it when we could take a trip down to Seattle and listen to 107.7 the End and actually hear good music on the radio.

The early nineties was a beautiful time for radio in Vancouver. We finally got an alternative station! I actually had all my presets on my radio set to good stations! It was wonderful.

Now I have my best friend, Sirius XM. I occasionally listen to 101.9 the End, a local alternative station, but ADS. I hate ‘em. I want to hear good music. Plus, overplay. I want to listen to a huge variety of good music! I listen to 80’s on 8, First Wave, Lithium, XMU, and Alt Nation channels on Sirius. (and sometimes Disney Channel, shhh – don’t tell) Sirius’ rates have gone up considerably, from $7.00 a month to $30.00, so DH has cancelled our subscription. He is convinced that they will come back with a better offer so that we don’t have to cancel, but I just don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t listen to the radio!

Book Report - Warm Bodies

Title: Warm Bodies
Authour: Isaac Marion
Length: 256 pages
How long it took me to read: 1 day

What it's about: R is having a no-life crisis—he is a zombie. He has no memories, no identity, and no pulse, but he is a little different from his fellow Dead. He may occasionally eat people, but he’d rather be riding abandoned airport escalators, listening to Sinatra in the cozy 747 he calls home, or collecting souvenirs from the ruins of civilization.

And then he meets a girl.   First as his captive, then his reluctant house guest, Julie is a blast of living color in R’s gray landscape, and something inside him begins to bloom. He doesn’t want to eat this girl—although she looks delicious—he wants to protect her. But their unlikely bond will cause ripples they can’t imagine, and their hopeless world won’t change without a fight.

My take: I loved reading this book. It's a little gruesome - you know, zombies, but it's funny and full of hope, but the ending was weird. I totally enjoyed it until the end. I hope the movie's better.
The ending is the most important part: It ended with a fizzle, not a bang.
Last word: I recommend this book with a warning: there is a lot of swearing, and the descriptions of the Dead eating the Living are pretty graphic. This book is not for everyone, but I did enjoy it.

Spoilers after the jump:

I Feel Like I Should Still be Sleeping

Dewey has this wonderful way of saying exactly what I’m feeling, it’s amazing. This is what he moaned when I woke him up last Monday morning after the time change and it was still dark outside. Me too, baby, meeee tooooo. I was just getting used to using my sunglasses in the morning, and we had to go and spring forward.

I have this love-hate relationship with the time change. I love how it’s kind of a sign that Spring is coming, and that it stays light longer, but I hate losing an hour. I also feel off, like I don’t know what time of day it is and I can’t wake up or go to sleep properly. I get it from my mother. Here’s a typical scene at our house when I was growing up:

One of us: Mum, what’s for dinner?

Mum: Dinner? What time is it? Seven o’clock? UGH! I HATE the time change!! Guess it’s sandwiches for dinner!

I used to laugh at her so much. Why doesn’t she just look at the clock? Well, I can’t tell you how many times I have said the very same thing.

I posted this on Facebook on Tuesday:

I don’t even know what time it is anymore!

My sister, Mrs. Bowie commented with a link to this song. Isn’t she funny? I thought it was awesome.

The other thing Dewey said to me was “Why do we even have to have the time change?” To be honest, I can’t even remember; something to do with saving daylight and the farmers? I’m too tired to even Google it. DH just got adjusted to his new sleep schedule and now all he did last week was sleep. Now we all have to get adjusted again.

The only thing that has made it better is that I’ve been putting myself on a schedule that goes by the clock, not the sun which has really helped me not get too caught off guard.

Oh well, we’ll change back in six months and I’ll feel normal again.

Seriously? You’re going to talk about the weather?

Frozen Trees

Let me explain myself: I am from the West Coast of British Columbia. I grew up talking about the weather constantly. There’s a lot of weather there, so we talk about it - a lot.

January is the month when I want to crawl in a hole and die. I hate January so so so much. I just want to run away from January. Nothing good comes from January.

That’s not entirely true. I was married in January – that was pretty awesome. I have some friends that were born in January and I like them, so that’s a good thing. I usually love New Year’s, there’s the beginning of awards season, and Sundance, but everything else is out.

This year so far has been a struggle. We get these inversion things where the cold air is sucked in and trapped in the valley and I HATE them. The air doesn’t move and it’s hazy and below freezing and nothing melts. YUCK. The air quality is so bad. Everything is grey. Not angry stormy rainy or snowy skies grey, but no colour nothing happening in the sky grey; blah grey. It's like the sun doesn't even work. Of the 17 days we’ve had of January, ten of them have been inversions and three of them have been where it snows all day and the commute is awful and you don’t want to go anywhere. We had some snow at the beginning of the year – just a couple of inches - which made the ground cold, which caused an inversion, which made it even colder. This lasted a week. Then we got a big wind storm which mixed the air enough to clear everything out, give the sun a chance to come through and warm things up, and bring in another snow storm. This storm brought an additional twelve inches. This continued to keep the ground cold and caused another inversion. It has been so cold this year. Bitter cold. My bones ache and I’m so tired. I’m pretty sure we’ve only had two or three days where the high temperature has been above freezing. It’s so cold and the air quality is so bad, that even if I had the time, I can’t take Orso out for a walk and he is going stir crazy. Everything is icy and grey and snow covered and I’m miserable. I can’t get warm. I can’t get motivated.

Eli McCann posts about what a cruel, cruel witch January is. I really couldn’t agree more.

January is supposed to be the month that you start the new year and work on all those awesome goals you set for yourself. This is a joke because January is so depressing that you have even less motivation to do anything to improve yourself. I just feel like cancelling everything. The weather is really affecting my mood.  This bums me out to no end. It’s been on my mind and I’ve been stewing it around for some time. This is unacceptable to me. I hate feeling so UGH all the time. Since I made up with Snow and with Summer, I have been trying to figure out how to make up with January.

I have come up with a few things, but I’m not quite there yet. Here are some of the things I’ve been mulling around:

Manicure with Summer Colours

• I’m trying to come up with a Get out of your Funk/Listen to when you’re Blue playlist – but it’s slow going. I have been listening to my Summer playlist which has helped a little, but not enough.
• 
  

  It gets foggy with an inversion and sometimes the fog freezes causing my world to look like this, so there is some beauty.
  

  

  Weeping Japanese Maple covered in frost

  
  
• The boys want to learn how to ski/snowboard. DH has skied Utah, but not since he’s lived here and I have done some skiing and snowboarding and love it, but haven’t had the time nor funds to take that on since moving to Utah. There’s a hill about an hour and a half away from here that’s really good for kids to learn on. When an inversion happens, it’s actually warmer up in the mountains than down in the valley, and going up in the mountains is the way to escape the inversion. Going up in the mountains is good exercise. I put my snowboarding pants on in order to shovel the driveway last Saturday and I had to let the adjustable waist out because I could barely get them on! That was a wake up call for me as I have not worn the pants for about two years. (Last year was really crummy as far as snowfall was concerned) I have this total hatred of driving in snowy conditions, so driving up in the mountains on purpose in the winter seems like a really dumb thing to do, and a three hour drive round trip seems like a major time commitment, which is why I’m still mulling it around. I should look into this further.
• The Sundance Independent Film Festival happens every January. I should volunteer. I almost did a couple of years ago, but was feeling too crappy in January to fully commit. All I want to do is hunker down and disappear in January, not go out in the cold and manage crowd control. Plus the weather is so unpredictable, and the aforementioned hate of driving in the mountains in the snow. Park City is not nearly as far away as I think it is, and it’s out of the inversion. I still think this would be such a fun thing to do, so I’m still stewing on this too. Maybe next year.
• In past years I have made improvements to my winter wardrobe. There is a lot more wool and cashmere. I have really good winter boots, the aforementioned snowboarding pants that are GREAT for walking the dog in the snow, and a down jacket that keeps me warm. I have some cute hats, gloves and scarves that make going outside MUCH less painful. I love all my warm tights and cozy sweaters and socks, but I’m a bit bored with some of my wardrobe (skirts, pants, shirts) and in a bit of a funk because I don’t want to buy anything new because of my size. I am in major need of a winter wardrobe makeover. I need to weed a lot of things out. I think this will help me to feel better. I always feel better after I clean out my closet.

• 

  Happy Face mug, Red Spoon

  I have this Happy Face mug that totally makes me smile. It’s great for hot chocolate, which also makes me smile, but hot chocolate is so huge in calories and so bad for my skin when I drink it on a regular basis, but it is so good for warming the cockles of my soul when it’s so so so very cold outside.
• I ran away to Maui once in January – that was perfect, but I can’t exactly afford to run off to the tropics any time it’s cold. I have a tropical island photo on my desktop. That helps, but only a little.
• I’ve been eating oatmeal – that warms me up, but I worry again about calories.
• I’ve been baking and cooking. This also makes me worry about calories. I also make a big mess and there are twice as many dishes, but moving around doing dishes warms me up, running the dishwasher and using the oven warms the house up, and YUM!
• I have been trying to go to the gym – working out warms one up like no one’s business, but I’m still adjusting to DH being home. He seems to take up more of my time than anyone.
• I could do a manicure with happy hot colours, but my hands are so dry and my nails are so brittle...
• We had our house built with a chimney, but didn’t let the builders put in our fireplace as it was so much extra money, and we wanted to be able to do it on our own terms and in our own time. We need to put in our fireplace, but it only costs money. We’ve been in the house almost seven years…

Sitting by the fire in my cashmere sweater, wool socks, and jeans that fit, sipping hot chocolate, munching on chocolate chip cookies and listening to good music while reading a good book after a day in the mountains sounds as close to perfect as it can get, doesn’t it?

New Year’s Annoyance

Hey.

Howareya.

Happy New Year.

So I kinda hate romantic holidays. I also hate it when people try to make holidays romantic. Case in point: the number of people getting engaged at Christmas. Oy. Dude, get an imagination. And, how cheap are you? Too cheap to buy an engagement ring and a Christmas present so you just lump them into one? URGH!! I have a thing about combined presents. See: Birthday + Christmas = your head chopped off. (to those of you who got engaged on Christmas – congratulations!)

Side note; I never used to hate romantic holidays – I guess I used to have such high hopes. Years of disappointment has ruined this. I hate that the little girl in me has died.

I consider New Year’s to be a romantic holiday – what with the kiss at midnight and the pretty dress and the hope for something new and the cuddling because it’s cold.

So I totally loved New Year’s. It’s my favourite. I love making resolutions and looking back at last year and all the lists (top 20 albums of the year, 10 worst fashion disasters of the year, you know). I love the fact that there is a party, but NO gift giving. I love planning what I’m going to wear to the New Year’s dance/party/whatever. I love the sparkle and the fancy. I used to plan all year what I was going to do for New Year’s.

Let’s rewind to New Year’s Eve 1996. I was so excited to share this with my soon-to-be-Darling-Husband that I took a trip to Salt Lake City just to spend New Year’s with my Darling. I was so excited to finally have my “forever” – the man I was going to spend the rest of eternity with. Yay! Finally a guaranteed kiss at midnight for the rest of evermore! I was so excited for a romantic night. I spent Christmas with my family, but saved New Year’s for my fiancé. When my dad was driving me to the Seattle airport so that I could fly down to SLC, we had a huge hassle at the border; car searched, sent in to immigration to be grilled, etc., a story for another time. I thought it was all worth it just to spend New Year’s with my Darling.

He knew I was coming to spend New Year’s with him, but he made no plans. I saw that he had New Year’s decorations in his condo, so I wrongfully assumed that New Year’s was as big a deal to him as it was to me. A tip: you do NOT ask your love/date/girlfriend/whatever what they want to do for New Year’s ON New Year’s Eve. Of course, everything was booked and there was nothing to do, so we sat in front of the TV watching New Year’s Rockin’ eve. I use the term “we” loosely. I sat on the couch watching the TV and pouting while DH slept. Worst slash Stupidest New Year’s ever. I should have stayed home and partied with my friends since I was getting married in eleven days, but I wanted to spend the most romantic night of the year with my most favourite love. Had I known that I would never again party it up on New Year’s I would have totally taken advantage of my last chance.

DH and I have never done anything on New Year’s. Not once ever. Ever never ever. NE-VER. Like, ever. We celebrated the end of the 20^th century by him and his newly divorced friend watching the New Year’s fireworks around the world on CNN, and me sleeping in the next room. I was pregnant with Huey at the time and very tired. We were all worried about Y2K and the end of the world and I had to work the next day to make sure that the computers were all good to go. I woke up at midnight, came out to the living room, told the men “Happy New Year” and went back to bed. Yup. We know how to par-tay.

I have tried to plan things to do for New Year’s figuring that if I want to do something, I had better plan it. Everything I have suggested gets shot down. Too cold. Too loud. I don’t want to do that, I have to work. Every year I end up alone watching TV. We do occasionally toast with sparkling cider and kiss and say “Happy New Year”, but rarely do we both stay up and ring in the New Year together.

Here we are this year, the end of 2012. No plans. I had spent the last three days cleaning our house. (It looks great, thanks for asking!) DH had to work his usual 3-11pm. I made a nice steak dinner. When he left to go back to work he asked me if we were going to be up. I turned to him as I was folding laundry and watching New Year’s Rockin’ Eve with Jenny McCarthy and Ryan Seacrest – they were remembering Dick Clark, it was pretty great – and told him probably not. I was going to finish the load I was folding, read to Davy and put him to bed and go to bed myself. I was really tuckered out from cleaning, I had my period, we never do anything for New Year’s, I’m so sick of this year, the new year is going to come whether I ring it in or not, so bah, humbug! I was in bed by 10. Huey was up playing Minecraft when DH came home at eleven. I heard them talking and stuff, but chose to remain in bed. I was so grumpy from years previous and the whole asking me the day of if I want to do anything (urgh! That makes me so MAD!), and tired that I wasn’t about to get up and be with him even though I was awake. He came up and kissed me and said Happy New Year at midnight, but I pretended I was asleep.

So for the past sixteen New Year’s one of us has been asleep at midnight. We even had a bunch of fireworks going off in our neighbourhood this year and I was too grumpy to even bother to look outside. Sad for me the most, really. I used to love this holiday so much and this year totally stunk and most of it was because of me. I have being in Time’s Square at New Year’s on my bucket list for crying out loud!

I totally could have showered and prettied up and been all ready by the time DH got home. We could have watched the ball drop and toasted and had a kiss and a snuggle, but I was just so mad that we never do anything on New Year’s that I let sixteen years of frustration build up and just went to bed. There was no yelling or fighting like there has been in years past, which is good and bad. Good: no yelling or fighting. Bad: I’ve given up. So what I was trying to say was that I could have totally had a relatively fun New Year’s this year (at least a better on than in years past), but I just didn’t.

I have decided two things:

1. We are having an annual New Year’s party. You’re all invited. The theme is “White”.
2. We are going to have romantic holidays this year, that it is going to be up to me, and I am going to make it happen for us: starting with our anniversary on the 11^th. Wish me luck.

Christmas Plus and Minus.

I have discovered that the one and only thing that gets me in the Spirit of Christmas is having the presents bought and wrapped. Not ugly decorations. Not lame music. Next year (as with most years) I plan on having Christmas presents purchased early. I think by Halloween would be a good goal this year.

This is how my Christmas went:

Plus: I had ordered some shirts for Huey online and was worried that they may not arrive in time for Christmas. They were some good shirts (one Monty Python, the other Dr. Who) and I was really excited to give him the Monty Python shirt. I had checked my email Sunday morning to find that they were delivered on Saturday. We had not had a package come to our door, so Dewey and I got dressed in our coats and boots (over our jammies) and made the trek to the mailbox. Happily, the package was there and we skipped home to wrap presents. I have found that the boys get really excited with what they are getting for each other and their dad (and probably me). We had a blast wrapping presents together; even though I am extra-specially anal about how packages are wrapped. Dewey and I had a great time acting like little elves running down the block in our jammies and scampering home with our treasures and wrapping them up and putting them under the tree.

Minus: DH was bound and determined to have Christmas morning in the family room this year. It would be a first – we’ve only been in the house six years. I had put up the tree in the front room (lights, minimal decorations, only for Dewey’s sake), and had hoped that DH would take care of the family room while I was running around in Canada. Came home, nothing done. Weekend after week after weekend and nothing. I did what I could to contribute to the cleaning so that decorations could be brought out, but the majority of it was DH’s stuff-that-shall-not-be-touched and he was the one that was making a big deal about having this awesome cozy family room Christmas, so I left it up to him. Saturday night with Huey’s help he cleaned up enough of an area to put the tree up, but left it. He asked me to “fluff” the tree while he was at work on Sunday and when he came home from work for dinner he would put the lights on. I was really tired after taking care of sick Dewey and church and feeding everyone, that I just sat down to close my eyes for a minute. Huey got all kinds of mad at me for not helping things along and took it upon himself to finish the decorating. When DH got home he found Dewey watching TV while Huey was attempting to put the outdoor lights on the tree. DH took over and got the tree lit and the boys decorated the tree Sunday night. There was still the issue of clutter everywhere and no room to open presents. By the time Christmas Eve came around, I had given up and was planning on just having Christmas in the front room, but DH assured me that he would finish taking care of things. I had made the trek to Smith’s in the snow with the rest of Bountiful and back and DH was still lying around. I had a bit of a temper tantrum as I was fed up with his procrastinating and listening to the boys nag me about the lack of presents under the tree. After dinner, he meandered downstairs and got to work. I thought I was going to lose my mind. He was done by 2 am Christmas morning.

Plus: When I went to Smith’s at noon, there was major traffic. There was a huge line just to get into the driveway. Genius that I am, I forgot that they are doing construction on one of the driveways, so I had to turn left into the other driveway. I waited an eternity for my turn to have someone coming the opposite direction stop and block traffic so that I could turn in. That really put some spring in my step. I got everything that I needed for my Christmas dinner and Christmas baking with a smile on my face. I was in such a good mood that I almost did a victory dance in the middle of the canned vegetable aisle.

Minus: DH stores all the purchased gifts in two of the safes, so I was unable to get to them in order to have the boys wrap their presents to each other and to their dad. With our schedules being what they are, I never had a chance to have the safes opened early enough for there to be lots of presents under the tree and for my peace of mind. I don’t know the combinations, nor do I want to. I started on Friday asking him to open the safes for me so that I could pull out the presents the boys were going to give each other and some of the presents DH bought for himself that the boys were going to give to him. Huey and Dewey kept nagging me because they wanted to wrap presents, and I had to keep putting them off because DH kept putting me off. I had to have a tantrum to get DH to open up the bloody safes. I really did not want to do any yelling at Christmas, but I only lasted until Christmas Eve.

Plus: I have new hair and I really, REALLY, really love it.

Minus: The boys think I look like Draco Malfoy, and DH thinks it looks “not natural” so none of the boys like it.

Plus: The snow that started while I was at Smith’s on Christmas Eve continued to fall all day, so we had a White Christmas.

Minus: I told DH that I didn’t need any presents because I got to go to Vancouver. I had sent him a couple of wish lists in November; all he had to do was click on the thing and purchase it. He’s home during the day and would be there when the packages were delivered so I would be none the wiser. I’m not sure I could have made it any easier. A) I told him I didn’t need or want anything, but if he wanted to get me anything, he could get me something from here. B) I told him I didn’t need or want anything. C) I made it as easy as possible for him to get me something. D) I really hate shopping for myself, so it would have been really nice for him to just bloody well get me something from the lists. E) I’m really picky. He kept telling me on Christmas Eve that he felt bad that he didn’t have very many presents for me. I kept telling him that I didn’t want anything while reminding him that I had sent him lists with links over a month ago and he had no excuse for not having “much” for me and if he had really wanted to get me some nice presents then he had plenty of time and opportunity. We went through the same thing last year – I told him not to get me anything because we had spent so much money on our (my) trip to Kauai; to just focus on presents for the boys. He ended up feeling guilty because I didn’t have much to unwrap, so he bought me a $200.00 guitar. A guitar that I don’t know how to play, don’t have time to play let alone take lessons to learn how to play, and have only touched three times since I got it. It’s beautiful and I love it, but all it does is collect dust, torture me with the reminder that I don’t have the time to learn how to play it, and haunt me because it was such a waste of money. I was so worried that he was going to do that this year, so I kept reassuring him that I didn’t need any money spent on me. I ended up receiving an ugly pair of slippers and an even uglier candle warmer thing. I already have two candle warmer things that I rarely use that are NOT ugly. Not wanting to ruin Christmas or make a big deal out of it, I said nothing and kept it to myself. I was wishing that if he was going to get me ugly crap for Christmas that he would just not buy me anything at all. I was also musing about how we’ve been together for sixteen Christmases and we still can’t buy gifts for each other; me because he can’t be patient and buys things for himself whenever he wants them, and him because he’s stupid. Being that DH loves to poke bears with sticks, he confronted me about it after all the presents were opened and the boys were off building their Lego sets. I was still trying to get over myself and move on, but still pretty upset because he hadn’t taken anything that I had said to him to heart, and disappointed that we suck at buying presents for each other. (he got a shirt, cologne, Lawrence of Arabia box set on blu-ray, and a Blu-ray player – the Blu-ray player and Blu-ray box set he had bought for himself). He kept poking and prodding me and trying to get me to fight with him, and I kept trying to end the conversation so that I could move on and not be a sad cat, but he kept poking and poking until I said some not-nice things and told him I wanted him to return the gifts and to just drop it.

Plus: I ended up getting over myself rather quickly.

Plus: He told me to go buy some things for myself and I am SO going to take him up on that.

Plus: The boys loved all their presents and they made out like bandits.

Plus: I made a delicious Christmas dinner. So much so that the two hours I spent on my feet cooking was totally worth it.

Minus: The boys complained about dinner. I made ham and vegetables and didn’t even make them eat any of the weird vegetables (like Brussels sprouts, turnips, and sweet potatoes) that I made just for me.

Plus: When I told Dewey, who was the loudest complainer, how long I had been cooking and how hard I had worked on this dinner and how much it hurt my feelings that he was complaining about dinner, he apologized and stopped complaining which inspired Huey to stop complaining too. Later that night when we were finishing The Prisoner of Azkaban he gave me a big hug and told me again how sorry he was for complaining about dinner.

Plus: Other than the fight that DH picked with me, there was no fighting and peace for the whole day.

Plus: I was able to take the time for a full body facial/hair removal session/manicure and try out a bunch of products I had received from Sephora but hadn’t had the time to sample yet. This was very relaxing and made me super happy.

Minus: I wanted to spend some time writing, but I didn’t have time because I was cooking.

Plus: Nanaimo Bars

Overall, I am putting this Christmas in the Win column.

Holiday Drag

I have this love/hate relationship with the holidays.

I used to work in retail, so I have always blamed my BAH Humbug attitude on that, as if working retail has ruined Christmas forever.

I just hate the forced merriment. The we-have-to-get-together-and-like-it attitude. If I’m not going to go out of my way to see you during the year, then why the heck would I do it at the holidays?

The first Christmas that DH and I were married, I forced him to take me home to Vancouver for Christmas. We had a rare twelve inches of snow and we were driving a Honda CRX. Prior to moving to Utah, I had a grand total of four White Christmases (two of them were spent in Michigan). For anyone who doesn’t already know, the Pacific Northwest is not equipped for snow. First of all, there is a lot of humidity. That means ice. The snow doesn’t stick around for long because of the temperature and the rain. That means slush and flooding and more ice. Since snow is such a rarity, we only have the one plow. Also - hills. Right before we got to the border, we spun around on the highway a couple of times when we hit a particularly bad patch of ice. When we finally got to my neighbourhood (my street is a hill, by the way) we ended up plowing the road with our car. Our arrival was a surprise, so when I walked in the house screeching and moaning about the weather, I was in the living room before anyone realized it was me and not my sister making all that racket. That was the best part of the holiday. The trip home was even worse. We were stopped in Snoqualmie pass while they blasted for avalanches. Ice formed on the inside of the windows. The highway further south was closed down due to high winds, so we ended up in a Motel 6 on the border of Washington and Oregon and I had to miss an extra day of work. Utah and Idaho had no snow whatsoever. I have never been so happy to see dry roads in my life. “Never again!” saith DH. I couldn’t have agreed more.

I’m all for not travelling on the holidays, but for me that means no family. I guess that gets me out of the forced merriment, but I like my family a little bit and I haven’t seen them in four years and that bums me out.

I also hate the stress. Having children has made it worse, because you have to make it great and memorable for them. Hearing all the I-want-this and I-need-that scrooges me right the heck out. Christmas is supposed to be about the birth of Christ, not presents. I feel like a bad mother for not teaching them better. When I get stressed, I tend to bury my head in the sand and put things off which stresses me out more to the point that I’m doing my Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve. When I was single, I just made that my holiday tradition. It was fun then, but having that Christmas list going on repeat in the back of my head all season makes for a very grumpy rantgirl.

I always find that once I am done with Christmas shopping, I magically get the Christmas Spirit, which is why I always try to get it done before Thanksgiving. I always fail, but I’m done dragging myself down for not getting everything done. I haven’t even started yet, but at least I’ve written my list and checked it twice, so I will be done soon.

Until then, BAH HUMBUG!!

Thanksgiving Holiday Ho-Hum

So how was your Thanksgiving? Mine was fine...

I guess.

DH’s cousins always have us over for dinner, so I don’t have to cook a huge meal or get my house cleaned or stress out or anything.

I love having the extra two days off and since I don’t have to cook or clean or stress out, and I like to be ready for Christmas before Thanksgiving so that I can enjoy the holiday season, I had a lot planned for this weekend. I’m not going to say that nothing was accomplished, but I’m not where I want to be with my plans.

This happens every year. I have grand delusions of what I can accomplish in the four days of the Thanksgiving holiday and I make big lists and have high hopes, only to have them completely dashed.

I really needed some time off this year. I was due for a holiday in the worst way. I’ve just been really raked over the coals emotionally, burned out in other ways, and just plain exhausted.

I guess I just took my time getting to the things that needed to get done. I was really tired and needed some down time, so I took it. I can’t even remember what I did on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday other than I got up at the usual time, and went to bed at the usual time. On Thursday we spent the bulk of the day at the cousins, and on Friday I went to see The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn Part 2 by myself. I know that I did some laundry and some dishes and some ironing, and caught up on the shows that I recorded because I have no time for live television, but other than that, I guess I just did nothing?

Finally on Saturday, when I realized that my holiday was going to be shot if I didn’t get my butt moving, I got something accomplished. My knees are still hurting. I spent the bulk of the day on my hands and knees scrubbing things. I even washed walls and baseboards. It felt so good on Sunday to have clean floors and counters that I even did the dishes right after dinner!

I think that the issue with Thanksgiving is that I need time to stock up on my energy in order to get things done. I need that down time prior to Thanksgiving to gear up for the holidays. It was a combination of having rested the two days prior and of desperation to have a productive holiday that gave me the energy that was needed to work all day Saturday to make my home a lovelier place to exist.

I was going to get down on myself for not having the house decorated, the presents purchased and shipped, the letter written, picture taken and cards posted, but I decided to not beat myself up this year. Since every year is the same, I have realized that I need that relaxing time to gear up for the pre-Christmas clean/errand rush. I have also recently decided to focus on the things that I actually DID get done (even if you can’t see the results), rather than get upset that my to-do list actually grew instead of shrunk over the holiday.

Interview With the Vampire

I have always been fascinated with vampires.

When I was in high school, I used to dream of becoming a vampire. I thought it would be so cool to be frozen in time and be able to live forever and never die. Drinking blood? I’d be cool with it. Never having to eat again? Awesome. Partying all night and sleeping all day? The best! My friends and I would hang out in cemeteries and pretend we were the undead. We would fantasize about what we would do if we were vampires. How we would live undetected, etc. We would be so rich, it would be so rad, etc. I was enamoured with Bela Lugosi and the Lost Boys and Fright Night. I hate scary movies, but I love vampire movies.

Vampire is the only Halloween costume that I repeated when I was a kid. Since then, I’ve been a vampire many times.

When Twilight came out, I realized that it was the first vampire book I had ever read. I have seen numerous vampire movies, but I had never read a book. Thinking myself lacking, I decided to read some vampire books.

I read Bram Stoker’s Dracula. I had seen the movie when it came out in 1992, but the book seemed so tame in comparison. I enjoyed it, but not nearly as much as I liked the movie. I guess I was expecting more from the book.

I read John Polidori’s The Vampyre. It’s supposed to be one of the first vampire stories. It's okaaaay, but - meh.

On to Anne Rice and Interview With the Vampire. I haven’t seen this movie, but was aware that Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, and Kirsten Dunst were in it. I was so excited to read this book because it was so popular so it must be good and there’s a whole CHRONICLE of vampire stories for me to read and YAY for vampires!!

O. My. Gosh. I could not pull myself through this book. It was so boring. It took forever for anything to happen. The ending was weird. I just couldn’t get on board with Louis and his self-loathing. I had to renew it from the library three times in order to get through it. It just seemed to take so loooong to read. I was not sucked into the story at all. (no pun intended) I didn’t understand the whole thing with Claudia. I definitely did not love her, but she was my favourite character because she was not boring. I drudged through to the end with the hope that it would get better and it never did. I can’t not finish a book because the ending is the most important part and so this became more of a chore. This made me mad because I so love to read.

I dunno, I just thought it was lame and boring and nothing happened and nothing came to conclusion and I wish I had never read the book.

What is wrong with me? For someone who has been a vampire lover her whole life, I think it’s really disappointing that the only vampire book that I’ve enjoyed so far is Twilight.

Burrowing Seed Pods are my Enemy

Prince Orso in his natural habitat

We moved into this house in April of 2006 and still have not landscaped our backyard. We have had extenuating circumstances, and no money. Due to the lack of landscaping, we have a “natural” backyard.

“Natural” = weed infested.

There are these weeds (fox tails) that have seed pods that are shaped like arrows. They get on the dog and the boys and get tracked into the house and burrow themselves into my carpet, the boys’ socks and therefore my underwear because they are washed together in the laundry, and just recently, Orso’s paws.

This is also the time of year that Orso sheds and sheds and sheds and then he sheds some more. I vacuum and vacuum and vacuum, and brush and brush and brush the dog, and just when I think that I’ve conquered the dog hair beast, Orso sheds a few more million times.

At this time of year, the weeds irritate Orso’s belly, so in addition to the shedding, he can’t stop licking himself. It drives me nuts.

This year Orso decided to add his paw to his licking regimen – much to my joy and elation.

Orso has one paw that has two white toes with coordinating white toenails thus making him not "show quality" and costing us less at the breeder. This was the paw that he would not leave alone. I kept trying to look at it to see what was bothering him, but I couldn’t see anything and he would not let me touch it let alone look at it for more than five seconds. DH helped me hold him down because he said he saw a seed pod in the fur above his large pad, so we pinned him down and I pulled the thing out with tweezers feeling as triumphant as the mouse that pulled the thorn out of the lion’s paw, and I thought we would be done with it.

That’s when the limping started.

I thought maybe he just needed time to heal and stop licking the thing so that it could get better.

Then the swelling happened.

After much cursing and swearing and complaining about how much money that dog has cost him and what a waste of money and we should just have him put down, DH took Orso to the vet.

One overnight stay, some sedation, shaving, $750.00 and a cone of shame later, Orso is as good as new. He had his paw wrapped for a night and had to take antibiotics and anti-inflammatory drugs for two weeks, and wear the cone of shame if he couldn’t leave it alone. Dumb dog (or Smart Dog) figured out that if he stood up, he could bend over and get to his paw, so I left the cone off unless he was in his crate where he can’t stand up. I had to watch him like a HAWK to make sure he didn’t lick it. The vet said they found seed pods in all four paws, but the one with the white toes was the worst.

They instructed us to check his paws daily for seed pods. Having been on the receiving end of his reaction to me messing with his paw when it was hurt (teeth), and being the owner of a ninety pound dog, my resolution to this was to not let the dog in the back and burn down the backyard. Orso was pretty out of it the first day, so not letting him out the back was an easy task. I would let him out the front to do his business, and started walking him morning and night. After a couple of days of this, my schedule became overwhelming, and summer happened and it was fourteen thousand degrees every day, so I had no choice but to let him out the back to run around and do his business. (I did not burn the yard down. The fact that half of Utah is on fire has nothing to do with me.)

In order to check his paws, I have Dewey sit by his head and scritch his ruff while I pick through his paws wearing DH’s headlamp that he uses in lieu of a flashlight when he’s camping. It works like a charm and I can pick out every one of those suckers. Since we’ve been doing this daily for a few weeks now, Orso is pretty tolerant of the routine, so I don’t need Dewey’s help any more.

It’s still a hassle and depending on how many seed pods are in the fur around Orso’s toes (average ten), and how many times he jumps up and runs away from me (average two), it can take me up to half an hour to go through all four paws.

Don’t those dumb seed pods know that they will never be able to grow in my carpet? Or my underwear?

I hate this time of year.

Wherein I Cringe at Posting This, but I feel like I should explain myself...

My mum always worries about me when she hasn't seen me online for awhile. She assumes I've "gone into my cave" and leaves me alone.

C3P0 hasn't sent me an email asking me where I've been, so I guess it hasn't been that long since my last post, but to me it feels like forever.

Apologies to those that are new and reading through the history. I hate these reasons I haven't posted in a while posts.

First off, everything's fine, everyone's fine, and I'm not in my cave.

I've just been busy. When I get more than fifteen minutes to post, I will go into more detail, but here's what's been up with me: (how have you been?)

1) We have burrowing seed pods in our yard so I have to pin Orso down every night and check his paws.

2) It's summer and it's hotter than Hades.

3) It's summer and Orso is shedding like crazy so I am in a perpetual war on dog hair; constantly vacuuming, sweeping, doing laundry, and brushing the dog.

4) Dewey is in swimming lessons so I don't get a moment to myself until 7:30 now.

5) I'm writing a novel. Please don't say anything or try to encourage me. I'm only three chapters in and I'm afraid that your kind words will be gratifying enough to satisfy me and I'll put it down and not finish it. I've already started two other books/novels and put them aside and I really want to finish this one, so shhhhh!

6) I'm trying to finish "Interview With a Vampire". It's kind of like eating your vegetables.

7) Pinterest

8) Polyvore

9) DH changed the lens on the camera and I don't know how to work it and I like to have photos with my blog.

That's all for now. I have to rush off to take Dewey to swimming.

Love you all!

Summer’s here – let the whining and complaining commence!

Remember summer? Remember the anticipation? Remember the celebration? Remember YAY, Summer’s here!!

UGH>

I hate summer in Utah.

Hate. Hate. Hate.

It’s too hot. Air conditioning does nothing. The air doesn’t move and when it does, it’s like a blow dryer, there’s no cooling down. It doesn’t get cool at night. Sure, it cools down, but it only goes down to 70 F because it’s 95 F during the day. There’s no ocean. If you want to cool down, you have to drive to the mountains and who has time for that?

The sun just beats down on you and the sky is blue every day. NO clouds.

I know – wah wah wah, first world problems – don’t you know there are starving orphan children who are ravaged by war and forced into slavery? Yes, I know, we really should do something about that…

Back to me.

I have no motivation to move because if I exert an iota of energy, my body temperature increases and IT’S TOO BLOODY HOT!! Because moving is not an option, nothing gets done. Can’t cook, it heats up the house. No laundry, have to go up and down stairs.

YUCK.

Already this year we have had so many 90F days that 70F feels cool.

That being said….

YESTERDAY WAS AWESOME!

Yesterday being the summer solstice.

I used to look forward to the longest day of the year. It was a fun thing to celebrate. I love the change of seasons. (Utah has totally ruined this for me.)

Any way….

Back to yesterday being awesome. The high was only 80F, so most of the day was absolutely tolerable. There was no extraneous sweating. The sky was cloudless, but it was this amazing colour of blue. Not the usual pale polluted blue, but a true deep sky blue. The mountains are still green – like a true grass green – so seeing the mountains in contrast against the sky was beautiful. There was the tiniest of breezes, and it was a cool breeze – it felt incredible. The air seemed so clean yesterday.

I actually felt like celebrating the solstice!

Ant bites

 On Saturday evening, I went outside to weed the stones that we have on our boulevard. It's been a major infestation of weeds and we have needed to do it for some time now and I finally had the time to do it.

I had to lift up some of the rocks to get to the roots of some weeds. I overturned a rock and upset a whole colony of ants.

I didn't know that ants bite. I mean, I knew that ants CAN bite, I just didn't know that they would. And with such ferocity!

At first, they were just crawling all over me: my arms and my rear end that was sitting on the curb. I was shaking and blowing them off of me, but not paying them too much mind as I went about my work as I naively did not think that they would bite.

Then the stinging happened. Yeowch!! Did it ever sting. That's when I realized that ANTS BITE! And when they bite you it stings. And then it burns!! We were almost done, so I endured until we got all the weeds out, earning more ant bites, but I didn't want to not finish the project and we were so close to being done. All I wanted to do was go inside and take a shower to scrub off the stinging and burning, and maybe curl up into a little ball and cry a little.

The part that bugged me was that there was no swelling, no evidence of my pain - and there was a LOT of pain. I had no idea that being attacked by ants would be so dreadful. Finally Sunday night, I started to itch and then the bites showed up. These pictures were taken today - four days later. I have exfoliated every day in an attempt to get rid of the itching. I. Itch. All. Day. These are worse than mosquito bites!!

I spared you the gory details of photos of my rear. Suffice it to say it looks the same but worse. I can't wear pants or anything that will rub against the bites thus angering them further. I can't just walk around all day in panties, so I've been reduced to wearing super shorty short shorts and enduring the ridicule of my DH and my eleven-year-old son.

I have learned the following things:

1) I am stupid and naive.
2) Don't piss off ants
3) ANTS. BITE.
4) Ant bites hurt, burn, and are super annoying even four days later.

I hate my life right now.

Uninspiration

Haven’t been writing (obviously).

I hate it when bloggers post a post about how they haven’t been posting and explaining why. I don’t care why, just bloody post already! Don’t you know that our lives depend on you entertaining us? Also, I usually will come upon a blog 2 years after a person started their blog and will go back and read all their posts, so I didn’t notice their absence, so their apology for not posting post is moot as far as I am concerned. Also, I realize that they have their reasons, as do I.

So I vowed to never post a “Sorry I haven’t posted in awhile” post because I think they’re dumb.

Then I got this email from my Mother in Law (my only faithful reader – just kidding, Mum):

“Where RU?

I am missing your blog read! I love it. Come on. Take a break and do some of your creative writing...about life today, yesterday or possibly tomorrow.”

I have been meaning to get back in the saddle and write some more, and soccer season ends today, so it was just the boost I needed to sit down and write.

My excuses are many:

• Life
• Soccer
• Scouts
• Messy house
• Too tired
• Dancing with the Stars
• Too in my own head and can’t get out. It’s been feeling a little like the trash compactor in Star Wars. (sad, because writing helps me get out of my head the most, but I’ve been using other less effective and more self destructive escape tactics)
• Blogger changed their format and I have issues with change and was having problems navigating the new pages.
• I’ve been letting Huey have the computer so that he can finish his homework and be all caught up and finish sixth grade with a bang.
• Huey changed the settings on my laptop and now the mouse is an external mouse not the touch pad and it bugs me so I haven’t been using my laptop.
• When I write, I tend to write and write and write and write and write. The only time I have to write uninterrupted is after the boys are in bed and that causes me to stay up way past my bedtime which is very unhealthy for me.
• I’ve been ensconced in the words of others. –meaning, I’ve been going through a reading phase where I borrow a pile of books from the library and read and read and read so that I can return them quickly so that someone else has a chance to read them and I’m not hogging. This distracts me as I am living in their world and not my own, so my inspiration level goes down as I get inspired my me the most.
• The journal I was carrying around with me and writing my inspirations in got filled up and now I’m carrying a new journal. My old inspirations inspire me and I can’t remember them and so I can’t feed off my old inspirations. (Make sense? Probably not – my head is a weird place)
• Not taking the time for me or making myself a priority which depresses me, which causes me to get inside my own head, which causes me to feel uninspired, which causes me to not write and down down down the rabbit hole I go.
• Not very many people read my blog, so I don’t feel a responsibility to keep it up as I make myself the lowest priority. I should be doing this just for me because it is the best for me and I really love it, but since no one else cares, I just let it go, but I should do it for myself, but I definitely don’t care about myself the most.

After I got the email from my mother-in-law, I logged on to Blogger to read my reading list ignoring my own posts, which I have been doing for awhile. Her nagging little voice was in the back of my head so I decided to look at some of my own posts when I discovered that I had a draft saved. I decided to finish up the post and publish it. The process felt so good that I decided to write this too. Now I feel even better.

I am likening my MIL to C3PO hearing my cries for help from the trash compactor and telling R2-D2 to deactivate all the trash compactors.

Thanks for the inspiration, D! (look at that, I gave you a blog nickname)