Gonna rant for a second....Why is it okay to blatantly hurt someone else's feelings? Because we as humans sometimes suck? Because we as humans sometimes like to see others hurt? Because we can't stand to see other people happy? Why?!
I will say this....sometimes things need to be said. Sometimes. Sometimes, people do need to hear what they do not want to hear. But, being hateful, just hurting someone else's feelings because of your own insecurities, that is despicable!
I wish I could ball up all of the hate and hurt in the hearts of these offenders and throw it away...vanquish it so that they would no longer feel the need to be hateful or hurtful to anyone else.
It is a pity that we have but one life to live and that some waste it by memorializing themselves with the hurt they press down upon others.
I hope that forgiveness will come to the ones you've hurt. That they will find places of pity and understanding to forgive you. I pray that witnesses to your improprieties will whisper softly to themselves, "that will never be me." And when you selfish, indignant individuals turn to the ones you've scorned I wish that in your need the lesson will be learned......
What goes around comes around.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Jerk-Off, ahhh, that felt good!
I like to call names. I admit it. Sometimes I just like to call a Jerk a Jerk. Or a PooPooHead a PooPooHead.
I find myself in the car, quite often, telling the "Dude" in front of me to "C'mon! Watch the frickin' road", and "What the @$&%$&+$ Do you think you are doing!!!! Can't you see I am in this lane already!?!?" And I make up all sorts of names for these guys and gals. Nothing new here, just a lot of oldies-but-goodies, like:
Dillweed
Jerk-Off
A-Hole
Freakin' Moron
Douche Bag
and the list goes on.....
But, as I said, I sort of like this. Does that make me weird? That I sorta like calling people names but not to their face, only while in my car. It's only to the back of the head of said person in front of me while I am in my mobile transporting vessel hurtling down the road at 60 miles an hour. "Who the heck taught you to drive, Dumb-A&^!!"
And it's not road rage. I know that's what you're thinking. Because see, I would never get up next to the person and call him/her any of these names I call them behind their back, nope, I like to just call them names and then forget. Just drive past them and not give them a second glance. Not necessary, I called you all the names I needed to while you were in front of me. Now that I am leaving you behind, I have nothing to say but, "ARRIVEDERCI!!"
It's wonderful, actually. Name calling. It helps you to articulate your disdain for the person. Gives your mind a way to escape, makes me laugh fitfully sometimes. Yes, that's me the crazy lady in the car behind you with the vein bulging out of her head, throwing her hands in the air, and then laughing hysterically. That's me!
Another thing I catch myself doing while driving, and let me just say that the name calling is only done while I am alone in the car....okay, is almost always only done while I am alone in the car. And curse words are not used if the kids are in the car with me....okay, only mild curse words are used while the kids are in the car, and this doesn't happen very often.....a very honest admission, I must say.....but I digress. I catch myself making sound effects for these pitiful cars driving down the road, too.
I make sounds like Speed Buggy, "Room a zoom-zoom, Plurp-plurp-phhlrpphllrp Let's get it goin' here Buddy! Got a little water in your tank? When was the last time you checked your oil???! Sheesh, smokin like a barbecue grill on game day!!! Get a tune up, already!!"
And this will make me laugh too. I just kill myself sometimes! Who IS this lady making these noises and talkin all this smack? Huh?!
I guess I like this freedom because it doesn't hurt anyone. Anyone who knows me, knows I would hate to hurt someone's feelings. I am always trying to find the best way to say something because I really think it matters, how you approach subjects and how the person is left feeling. These things matter to me. But, not when I'm in the car. I could care less if you were a van-load full of nuns, if you are in the fast lane going 45 I am going to call you a whole slew of names until you get out of my way, and stop holding up the flow of traffic.
Weird. I guess I am a little weird. But a good driver.....just a mouthy one!
So what about you? Do you catch yourself saying things out loud in certain places, places you feel safe. And saying things you would never normally say because how would that make the other person feel?
Admit it. You like calling names too! It's a release!
This especially goes out to all of you married folks because you KNOW you have called your spouse many a choice word when you knew he or she wouldn't hear you!
I find myself in the car, quite often, telling the "Dude" in front of me to "C'mon! Watch the frickin' road", and "What the @$&%$&+$ Do you think you are doing!!!! Can't you see I am in this lane already!?!?" And I make up all sorts of names for these guys and gals. Nothing new here, just a lot of oldies-but-goodies, like:
Dillweed
Jerk-Off
A-Hole
Freakin' Moron
Douche Bag
and the list goes on.....
But, as I said, I sort of like this. Does that make me weird? That I sorta like calling people names but not to their face, only while in my car. It's only to the back of the head of said person in front of me while I am in my mobile transporting vessel hurtling down the road at 60 miles an hour. "Who the heck taught you to drive, Dumb-A&^!!"
And it's not road rage. I know that's what you're thinking. Because see, I would never get up next to the person and call him/her any of these names I call them behind their back, nope, I like to just call them names and then forget. Just drive past them and not give them a second glance. Not necessary, I called you all the names I needed to while you were in front of me. Now that I am leaving you behind, I have nothing to say but, "ARRIVEDERCI!!"
It's wonderful, actually. Name calling. It helps you to articulate your disdain for the person. Gives your mind a way to escape, makes me laugh fitfully sometimes. Yes, that's me the crazy lady in the car behind you with the vein bulging out of her head, throwing her hands in the air, and then laughing hysterically. That's me!
Another thing I catch myself doing while driving, and let me just say that the name calling is only done while I am alone in the car....okay, is almost always only done while I am alone in the car. And curse words are not used if the kids are in the car with me....okay, only mild curse words are used while the kids are in the car, and this doesn't happen very often.....a very honest admission, I must say.....but I digress. I catch myself making sound effects for these pitiful cars driving down the road, too.
I make sounds like Speed Buggy, "Room a zoom-zoom, Plurp-plurp-phhlrpphllrp Let's get it goin' here Buddy! Got a little water in your tank? When was the last time you checked your oil???! Sheesh, smokin like a barbecue grill on game day!!! Get a tune up, already!!"
And this will make me laugh too. I just kill myself sometimes! Who IS this lady making these noises and talkin all this smack? Huh?!
I guess I like this freedom because it doesn't hurt anyone. Anyone who knows me, knows I would hate to hurt someone's feelings. I am always trying to find the best way to say something because I really think it matters, how you approach subjects and how the person is left feeling. These things matter to me. But, not when I'm in the car. I could care less if you were a van-load full of nuns, if you are in the fast lane going 45 I am going to call you a whole slew of names until you get out of my way, and stop holding up the flow of traffic.
Weird. I guess I am a little weird. But a good driver.....just a mouthy one!
So what about you? Do you catch yourself saying things out loud in certain places, places you feel safe. And saying things you would never normally say because how would that make the other person feel?
Admit it. You like calling names too! It's a release!
This especially goes out to all of you married folks because you KNOW you have called your spouse many a choice word when you knew he or she wouldn't hear you!
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Game Shows and Censoring, Can't Decide What I'm Talking About Here!
Has anyone else been watching this show on the Food Network, "Chopped"?
It has become one of my new faves. I love the gameshow element of it, "Who will make the most impressive meal? Who will come out on top?" Which is why I have also always loved the Iron Chef shows. I especially liked Iron Chef back in the day. The Japanese show that the Food Network bought and dubbed over with English speakers. Think Kung-Fu Theatre in the kitchen!
Anyway, back on topic, Chopped. It's good. It has a panel of three judges, tasting the fares of 4 chefs. In round one, the chefs are to make an appetizer using all of the ingredients found in their baskets (everyone has the same ingredients). They can also use anything they find in the "pantry" to complete their dish. There are three rounds, Appetizer, Entree, and Dessert. A chef is Chopped each round leaving one Chef victorious, and the winner of $10,000. Oh, and in each round, the chefs have only 30 minutes to concoct, cook, and plate their dishes, and the ingredients in the baskets change with each round so there's no pre-planning. Just open up the basket and start cookin'!
It gets me excited seeing what ingredients they will have, and thinking "What would I do with those?" Course I'll think things like, "Oh, I'd make a Peanut Sauce with that, and pair it with a Fresh Mint Salad and Shrimp Puff..." Though, I can think it all I want, but I wouldn't know how to execute it to save my life,! And I sure as heck couldn't do it in 30 minutes! Whew, no way!
But, it gets me thinking. I pick out my favorite chef at the beginning, and if there were a way of betting on my pony, I would!
That's what I have always loved about game shows. You get involved. You pick a favorite. You talk to the TV telling him or her how stupid they made you look when they answered that way or chose that whatever. Doesn't he know that the capital of Norway is Oslo? Great....I put my bet on this one?!? Crap. Send my pony to the glue factory, he's worthless.
Game Shows are my kind of gambling. No money is exchanged, I get to show off how smart I am to all those who are in the room, usually just me. And if I decide I don't like my pony, well, I just pick a new one half way through. I can't associate myself with Nitwits now can I?
But, Chopped got me thinking about something I had wondered a while back....Where have Game Shows gone? We still have the Price is Right, I think. Though, I'll have to say, I saw it once when it was on prime time, and Drew Carey sucked! He is definitely no Bob Barker.
Back when I first started wondering, "Where have Game Shows gone?" CBS came out with Million Dollar password. I was psyched! Too cool! I loved that show growing up, Super Password, that is. But, now, no more Password. Maybe it's just on hiatus. But, what the crap? Am I the only one who still likes a good Game Show?
Wheel of Fortune is still going, so that must not be the case. But what about reviving The Match Game or The Joker's Wild or Tic-Tac Dough? With Game Show Host's whose names are Wink, Bert, Gene, and Bob. They wore suits and had classic "reporter" hair. And the celebrities on the shows could kind of get bawdy in their responses. It was funny! Their answers were just slightly risque. No one was ever over the line. They got just close enough to it to make it funny!
Seems like these days you have to worry about every word that comes out of your mouth. "Oops, shouldn'ta said that, gonna hear from this group on that one....oops, messed-up again, I might get fired for that." Great. Fine. Censor us to death. Now our kids are being pooh-poohed away from so much that it's like being rebellious to say "Butt!" or "Fart!" Just to let you know, these have been replaced with "bottom" and "pooting". (I guess tooting was even too crass.)
In fact, I was just corrected the other day by Griffin when I asked him to "push his butt up" because I needed to get his pants under it while he was seated on the couch. "Mom. It's called a bottom. You should say bottom." Great. It's a bottom. Super. Well, let's just get this straight right from the get-go. A butt is a butt, a bottom is a butt, a tush is a butt, a hiney is a butt, the gluteus-maximus is the butt muscle (mine is covered with a thick layer of fat, but I promise you the muscle is in some shrunken space below), buttocks, booty, etc. All of these are non-curse words we can use to refer to that area of the body. It's just now, someone has decided that the least offensive term is bottom, so let's all adopt that word, okay?!? Might as well just get rid of those other offensive ones.
I caught myself saying this improper, "butt" word in The Live Big class I teach, and I was seriously upset with myself. My internal thought was, "Carrie, you can't say that in church! These kids are gonna leave here saying 'butt', and when their parents ask them where they have learned this word, they're going to say, 'My Live Big teacher said it!'" Good Gracious! Lightning should have struck down from the heavens and zapped me flat!
But, I did it too. I chastised myself for saying butt, when it is a perfectly fine word. Sure, bottom might have been a more appropriate choice. But, it wasn't going to hurt any of those kids to hear the word butt.
I should throw in the fart word sometime during my next class and refer to "tee-tee" as pee! I'll be banished for sure!
I guess what I'm saying is that Game Shows of old made me feel appropriate. I wasn't some "looks nice on the outside but has the mouth of a trucker" sorta lady. Game Shows from times past made me feel like I was gambling when I wasn't. And Game Shows engaged me. Got me thinking.
I'm tired of having more appropriate words forced down my throat and I'm sick of feeling like conforming for the "greater good" is how I should live. I'd like to keep my uniqueness, please. God intended for me to be this way. He crafted only one like me, and I'm pretty sure it would be an abomination of His name to change.
So, if you hear me saying, "Who farted?" and, "No wait, first I gotta go pee." and, "There's no Butt Wipe in here, somebody bring me some please." Just leave me be. I know there are better, more appropriate words, but I like the ones I choose, and they're not hurting anyone.
By the way, seriously, "Who farted?"
It has become one of my new faves. I love the gameshow element of it, "Who will make the most impressive meal? Who will come out on top?" Which is why I have also always loved the Iron Chef shows. I especially liked Iron Chef back in the day. The Japanese show that the Food Network bought and dubbed over with English speakers. Think Kung-Fu Theatre in the kitchen!
Anyway, back on topic, Chopped. It's good. It has a panel of three judges, tasting the fares of 4 chefs. In round one, the chefs are to make an appetizer using all of the ingredients found in their baskets (everyone has the same ingredients). They can also use anything they find in the "pantry" to complete their dish. There are three rounds, Appetizer, Entree, and Dessert. A chef is Chopped each round leaving one Chef victorious, and the winner of $10,000. Oh, and in each round, the chefs have only 30 minutes to concoct, cook, and plate their dishes, and the ingredients in the baskets change with each round so there's no pre-planning. Just open up the basket and start cookin'!
It gets me excited seeing what ingredients they will have, and thinking "What would I do with those?" Course I'll think things like, "Oh, I'd make a Peanut Sauce with that, and pair it with a Fresh Mint Salad and Shrimp Puff..." Though, I can think it all I want, but I wouldn't know how to execute it to save my life,! And I sure as heck couldn't do it in 30 minutes! Whew, no way!
But, it gets me thinking. I pick out my favorite chef at the beginning, and if there were a way of betting on my pony, I would!
That's what I have always loved about game shows. You get involved. You pick a favorite. You talk to the TV telling him or her how stupid they made you look when they answered that way or chose that whatever. Doesn't he know that the capital of Norway is Oslo? Great....I put my bet on this one?!? Crap. Send my pony to the glue factory, he's worthless.
Game Shows are my kind of gambling. No money is exchanged, I get to show off how smart I am to all those who are in the room, usually just me. And if I decide I don't like my pony, well, I just pick a new one half way through. I can't associate myself with Nitwits now can I?
But, Chopped got me thinking about something I had wondered a while back....Where have Game Shows gone? We still have the Price is Right, I think. Though, I'll have to say, I saw it once when it was on prime time, and Drew Carey sucked! He is definitely no Bob Barker.
Back when I first started wondering, "Where have Game Shows gone?" CBS came out with Million Dollar password. I was psyched! Too cool! I loved that show growing up, Super Password, that is. But, now, no more Password. Maybe it's just on hiatus. But, what the crap? Am I the only one who still likes a good Game Show?
Wheel of Fortune is still going, so that must not be the case. But what about reviving The Match Game or The Joker's Wild or Tic-Tac Dough? With Game Show Host's whose names are Wink, Bert, Gene, and Bob. They wore suits and had classic "reporter" hair. And the celebrities on the shows could kind of get bawdy in their responses. It was funny! Their answers were just slightly risque. No one was ever over the line. They got just close enough to it to make it funny!
Seems like these days you have to worry about every word that comes out of your mouth. "Oops, shouldn'ta said that, gonna hear from this group on that one....oops, messed-up again, I might get fired for that." Great. Fine. Censor us to death. Now our kids are being pooh-poohed away from so much that it's like being rebellious to say "Butt!" or "Fart!" Just to let you know, these have been replaced with "bottom" and "pooting". (I guess tooting was even too crass.)
In fact, I was just corrected the other day by Griffin when I asked him to "push his butt up" because I needed to get his pants under it while he was seated on the couch. "Mom. It's called a bottom. You should say bottom." Great. It's a bottom. Super. Well, let's just get this straight right from the get-go. A butt is a butt, a bottom is a butt, a tush is a butt, a hiney is a butt, the gluteus-maximus is the butt muscle (mine is covered with a thick layer of fat, but I promise you the muscle is in some shrunken space below), buttocks, booty, etc. All of these are non-curse words we can use to refer to that area of the body. It's just now, someone has decided that the least offensive term is bottom, so let's all adopt that word, okay?!? Might as well just get rid of those other offensive ones.
I caught myself saying this improper, "butt" word in The Live Big class I teach, and I was seriously upset with myself. My internal thought was, "Carrie, you can't say that in church! These kids are gonna leave here saying 'butt', and when their parents ask them where they have learned this word, they're going to say, 'My Live Big teacher said it!'" Good Gracious! Lightning should have struck down from the heavens and zapped me flat!
But, I did it too. I chastised myself for saying butt, when it is a perfectly fine word. Sure, bottom might have been a more appropriate choice. But, it wasn't going to hurt any of those kids to hear the word butt.
I should throw in the fart word sometime during my next class and refer to "tee-tee" as pee! I'll be banished for sure!
I guess what I'm saying is that Game Shows of old made me feel appropriate. I wasn't some "looks nice on the outside but has the mouth of a trucker" sorta lady. Game Shows from times past made me feel like I was gambling when I wasn't. And Game Shows engaged me. Got me thinking.
I'm tired of having more appropriate words forced down my throat and I'm sick of feeling like conforming for the "greater good" is how I should live. I'd like to keep my uniqueness, please. God intended for me to be this way. He crafted only one like me, and I'm pretty sure it would be an abomination of His name to change.
So, if you hear me saying, "Who farted?" and, "No wait, first I gotta go pee." and, "There's no Butt Wipe in here, somebody bring me some please." Just leave me be. I know there are better, more appropriate words, but I like the ones I choose, and they're not hurting anyone.
By the way, seriously, "Who farted?"
Monday, March 23, 2009
Memories, But a Juke Box Away!
I was off this last week. Home with Griffin for his Spring Break. Dan called it my "stay-cation". I thought that was clever.
I had several tasks to complete, or should I say I still have several tasks to complete!
But it was nice, being home with Griffin. He liked it so much that he was practically in tears when he had to get up and go back to school today! I knew how he felt, but couldn't really sympathize, I had to stand firm on, "Sorry buddy, school is important, you have to go."
I stood firm while my thoughts said, "I don't want to go back to work with my house still a mess and feeling like my week at home was not a whole week! It couldn't have been! Someone stole my days!"
But, what good would that do? It is what it is, as they say. Monday came even though I tried wishing it away.
Griffin and I had a notable moment in the car last week. He was switching stations like he likes to do when we're driving. He is very much a ROCK and RAP sorta dude! Anything with a thump.....I can already feel the future, my bleeding ear drums!!!
As he's searching through stations he stops on a Classic Rock Station. Where I hear the beginning of Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin. I say, "Oh, stay here Buddy. This is a GREAT song!"
Griffin: "No. I don't like this one."
Me: "No? Well, you just gotta keep listening.....it doesn't sound like a Rock song, but it gets there. It starts to rock towards the end."
time passes...
Griffin: "Nah. I don't like it. It doesn't rock."
Me: "I promise it will. You just gotta be patient."
seconds pass.....
Griffin: "I'm getting tired of waiting. Whens' it gonna rock?"
Me: "Buddy, you just gotta be patient. I promise it rocks! This is the kind of music your Dad and I grew up listening to. This is true Rock!"
the song starts to pick up, Griffin gets a little taste of the Rock that's coming....
Griffin: "Oh, Mom, it's starting to get better!"
He's bobbing his head, finding the beat of the song......but now we're almost home.
Griffin: "Mom. Do NOT turn off the car when we get home. I wanna keep listening to this!"
Oh, yes. Yes, son, you do. That is true Rock and Roll. Music that will ring in your head for years to come. And when it plays you will have all these memories float to the surface of where you were when......... and of who you were dancing with when it was playing at your 10th grade Sadie Hawkins....these are the memories of our youth. Gone from our every day lives until we turn on the radio, or pop in a CD, or better yet, put on an album!!
Music is an escape, a release, and a vacation away from it all.
That was one of the only moments I felt like I was truly on vacation while I was home. So glad I got to share it with Griffin.
I had several tasks to complete, or should I say I still have several tasks to complete!
But it was nice, being home with Griffin. He liked it so much that he was practically in tears when he had to get up and go back to school today! I knew how he felt, but couldn't really sympathize, I had to stand firm on, "Sorry buddy, school is important, you have to go."
I stood firm while my thoughts said, "I don't want to go back to work with my house still a mess and feeling like my week at home was not a whole week! It couldn't have been! Someone stole my days!"
But, what good would that do? It is what it is, as they say. Monday came even though I tried wishing it away.
Griffin and I had a notable moment in the car last week. He was switching stations like he likes to do when we're driving. He is very much a ROCK and RAP sorta dude! Anything with a thump.....I can already feel the future, my bleeding ear drums!!!
As he's searching through stations he stops on a Classic Rock Station. Where I hear the beginning of Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin. I say, "Oh, stay here Buddy. This is a GREAT song!"
Griffin: "No. I don't like this one."
Me: "No? Well, you just gotta keep listening.....it doesn't sound like a Rock song, but it gets there. It starts to rock towards the end."
time passes...
Griffin: "Nah. I don't like it. It doesn't rock."
Me: "I promise it will. You just gotta be patient."
seconds pass.....
Griffin: "I'm getting tired of waiting. Whens' it gonna rock?"
Me: "Buddy, you just gotta be patient. I promise it rocks! This is the kind of music your Dad and I grew up listening to. This is true Rock!"
the song starts to pick up, Griffin gets a little taste of the Rock that's coming....
Griffin: "Oh, Mom, it's starting to get better!"
He's bobbing his head, finding the beat of the song......but now we're almost home.
Griffin: "Mom. Do NOT turn off the car when we get home. I wanna keep listening to this!"
Oh, yes. Yes, son, you do. That is true Rock and Roll. Music that will ring in your head for years to come. And when it plays you will have all these memories float to the surface of where you were when......... and of who you were dancing with when it was playing at your 10th grade Sadie Hawkins....these are the memories of our youth. Gone from our every day lives until we turn on the radio, or pop in a CD, or better yet, put on an album!!
Music is an escape, a release, and a vacation away from it all.
That was one of the only moments I felt like I was truly on vacation while I was home. So glad I got to share it with Griffin.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Another Busy Weekend!
A weekend list of To-Do's:
Buy the kids matching outfits for Saturday's pictures ***check***
Give the boys haircuts ***check***
Bake two cakes for Wyatt's Birthday ***check***
Throw something in Crock-pot for Saturday lunch ***check***
Welcome-in Mom and Step-Dad for the weekend ***check***
Head-out to Photography Studio for Spring pics/Wyatt's One Year Portrait ***check***
Three hours later, Eat Crockpot lunch and prepare for dinner ***check***
Cook dinner kids will eat that isn't chicken nuggets ***check***
Serve Cake/Take Pictures in Celebration of Wyatt's Birthday ***check***
Clean-Up after Cake explosion ***check***
Drink wine to cure aching body ***check, hiccup, check-chicketty-check 1,2***
Wake to Snowy-Wonderland and spend Hours looking for Griffin's gloves, only to come-up with them after he has declared, "it's too cold out there!" ***check***
Convince Husband and Parents that re-arranging the Boys' bedrooms is a very good idea for a snowy Sunday morning ***check***
Spend the rest of the day Cleaning, Organizing, and Trashing all of their junk, oops, so sorry, what I meant say was "precious, and beloved belongings." ***check***
Stand back and look with pride on the new spaces we've created ***check***
Somehow fit into the weekend washing, drying, and folding 5 loads of laundry, washing dishes, vacuuming, along with other household duties ***check***
And here are the photos that illustrate our productive weekend. (oh, and I threw in the picture of Wyatt crawling in the hallway to show another thing that we are working on in our house, replacing the flooring in the hall, entry, and livingroom.... this is on top of the bathroom project that is still in full-swing and the other upgrades we have recently made to the house....lots of work but very rewarding!!!)
Buy the kids matching outfits for Saturday's pictures ***check***
Give the boys haircuts ***check***
Bake two cakes for Wyatt's Birthday ***check***
Throw something in Crock-pot for Saturday lunch ***check***
Welcome-in Mom and Step-Dad for the weekend ***check***
Head-out to Photography Studio for Spring pics/Wyatt's One Year Portrait ***check***
Three hours later, Eat Crockpot lunch and prepare for dinner ***check***
Cook dinner kids will eat that isn't chicken nuggets ***check***
Serve Cake/Take Pictures in Celebration of Wyatt's Birthday ***check***
Clean-Up after Cake explosion ***check***
Drink wine to cure aching body ***check, hiccup, check-chicketty-check 1,2***
Wake to Snowy-Wonderland and spend Hours looking for Griffin's gloves, only to come-up with them after he has declared, "it's too cold out there!" ***check***
Convince Husband and Parents that re-arranging the Boys' bedrooms is a very good idea for a snowy Sunday morning ***check***
Spend the rest of the day Cleaning, Organizing, and Trashing all of their junk, oops, so sorry, what I meant say was "precious, and beloved belongings." ***check***
Stand back and look with pride on the new spaces we've created ***check***
Somehow fit into the weekend washing, drying, and folding 5 loads of laundry, washing dishes, vacuuming, along with other household duties ***check***
And here are the photos that illustrate our productive weekend. (oh, and I threw in the picture of Wyatt crawling in the hallway to show another thing that we are working on in our house, replacing the flooring in the hall, entry, and livingroom.... this is on top of the bathroom project that is still in full-swing and the other upgrades we have recently made to the house....lots of work but very rewarding!!!)
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
The Bat Signal Has Been Sounded! I Need HELP!
Valentine's Day is coming up and on a Saturday too! That means we are almost certainly expected to do something "romantic", right?!?
It's a Saturday, so I guess that means we're supposed to get a babysitter and head out for a night of dinner, conversation and, again, that word "romance". Am I correct?!?
Silly that I would have to ask, I know, but romance is not something I am good at! You would think I would be good at it, I am female! Yet, I have become soooooo out of touch with that side of me since having the boys! I am literally at a total loss for what I could do for the man in my life, other than the purely obvious, that could be considered "romantic".
In previous years, I have done the whole sweet store-bought card, the sentimental hand-written note, the heart-warming, and tummy satisfying, "breakfast in bed" (this one has not worked out well for me since my husband would much prefer the extra hours of sleep and doesn't eat breakfast, other than slurping down an energy drink.)
But this year, I am stumped! And I realize this pure lack of creativity and invention makes me a real embarassment to the female population. But that's okay! Consider me the black sheep. I will wear my title with pride; I just need some ideas!! Something that might spark a memory or get me EXCITED about Romance!
I expect MANY responses to this distress signal! I want to get the Romance Gland working again!
****** If I receive not even one comment, I will cite all of you as the reason my husband is divorcing me! But don't feel any pressure.......
It's a Saturday, so I guess that means we're supposed to get a babysitter and head out for a night of dinner, conversation and, again, that word "romance". Am I correct?!?
Silly that I would have to ask, I know, but romance is not something I am good at! You would think I would be good at it, I am female! Yet, I have become soooooo out of touch with that side of me since having the boys! I am literally at a total loss for what I could do for the man in my life, other than the purely obvious, that could be considered "romantic".
In previous years, I have done the whole sweet store-bought card, the sentimental hand-written note, the heart-warming, and tummy satisfying, "breakfast in bed" (this one has not worked out well for me since my husband would much prefer the extra hours of sleep and doesn't eat breakfast, other than slurping down an energy drink.)
But this year, I am stumped! And I realize this pure lack of creativity and invention makes me a real embarassment to the female population. But that's okay! Consider me the black sheep. I will wear my title with pride; I just need some ideas!! Something that might spark a memory or get me EXCITED about Romance!
I expect MANY responses to this distress signal! I want to get the Romance Gland working again!
****** If I receive not even one comment, I will cite all of you as the reason my husband is divorcing me! But don't feel any pressure.......
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Why I Write
Before Christmas, I saw this journal at Walmart and wanted to buy it for myself but then felt all guilty, "You're supposed to be buying gifts for others, not yourself!" Now, after the holiday, I went back to that aisle in Wally-world and there it was, right where I had seen it last, and with my Christmas money in tow, this book would now be mine!
I am not sure why I love paper so much. It's really awfully glutonous of me. Watch out trees I am not your friend. As much as I like trees for their shady branches and statuesque presence in the skyline, I also I like them just as much cut down, mashed-up, and converted into reem after reem of glorious pen fodder! How very un-green of me!
I think this love started for me as a child. For some reason we had box after box of scratch paper in the downstairs closet of the home we moved into when my mom married my step-dad. I am pretty sure this paper came from some printing company who had maybe printed reems and reems of copies incorrectly or something, not sure. What I do know is that there were boxes upon boxes of white, pink, blue, and green paper that I was allowed to mark-up, draw on, write on, whatever, because it was paper no one wanted.
Oh, how much I loved this paper! I had my own little office in that downstairs closet. I would sit in the little cubby inside the closet where the paper was stored, and with my boxes of paper I would write, draw, and create my own masterpieces. I loved escaping into my own little workshop. Having my own space was something I never really had. Who really does. Our spaces as children are usually shared with other siblings, or maybe not shared with others, but governed by the man and woman of the house, aka, Mom and Dad. Whose rules applied everywhere within the house. So, forget that you want to hang that cool poster you saw at the store up on your wall, Mom and Dad will not be having any of that. This would damage their walls and this house is an asset, you know.
So, even though you may have your own room, it's not really yours. This line of thinking must come with the role of parent! I now see a mark made in my wall and think, "Ugh. Their just devaluing my house any way they can!!" or, "Great, more work! Let me put it at the end of this list.....where is the end of this list?????"
That is why, I guess, I have such an adoration for paper. With pen to paper I enter my own world. I rule this domain. My thoughts and feelings are valid in this world because as ruler I say so! With pen to paper thoughts are remembered. This second in time is recorded. My soul and spirit will now live on. I have immortalized myself.
I am quite sure this is why I find time for this blogging everyone wonders how I can fit into my hectic life. Well, I find time because I love to write. I yearn to touch souls, to enrich lives, to deepen my connection with the people I am surrounded by. In writing, or in just sharing pictures, I feel I am doing just that. Deepening my connection with those of you, and leaving my children a message, "Your Mom Loved You! She Wanted You to KNOW Her! And How She Loved to Write! And What She Dreams For You MORE Than Anything Else is For You All to Find for Yourself What You Love and DO IT!"
Not sure why, but just writing those words now has brought tears to my eyes. Do what you love! Live with passion!
I am doing what I love in being a Mother and a Wife. But not what I love in my career. I do Love the company I work for, but the job, definitely not what I would have hand-picked for myself. And because of that, I feel I have lost that spark in some ways. That spark that keeps your passionate fire ignited. And, I guess, I sort of feel like how can I be a true example of what I wish to pass on if I am not living it? It hurts, putting it down on "cyber" paper like this. Seeing in black and white that I am only living half the life I envisioned. What a blow. I feel as if I am admitting failure. That is a tough pill to swallow. But, then, what should I do? What will make this lover of all things connective happy. Where would my skills be best matched and where, then, should I start?
Sometimes I feel like there are several people living inside of me. And I should feel this way because in today's society women are made to feel like they are supposed to wear many, many hats, and therefore, be, many, many people.
Some days I feel like I am a wonderful mother. Other days I feel like I have my head in my ass and who the hell would want this woman as their mother? She's full of venum and bile, keep her away from all of your young ones!
Some days I feel like I am a terrific employee. Dedicated to the work and to the real importance of my role. Others, I wonder why I am doing this? Why on Earth do I still continue to act happy with people who really deserve a good tongue lashing!
Some days I feel like the wife I am is so sub-par that my husband should really just leave. I know I could be better, but I've got all these hats and the damn things are weighing on me. Go find you another woman who can be your best friend and your soft place to fall, I am becoming a cold-hard-concrete-for-a-heart person, living in this passion-starved world.
So, I guess what I am saying is that if I am to live my passion, where would I begin? What would have to suffer? I feel like I am already just barely keeping my hats on, what would happen if I juggled them even more by adding, "in pursuit of my passion" to the mix? And that is the thing that keeps holding me back.
This is the most infuriating for me since I have never been one to stand down to a challenge. But, yet, I continually push down my loves, my desires so not to disrupt the many roles I already must be present and active in.
I love this "cyber" paper, and the paper of a journal. I love that I have a voice in this world I have created. Yet, sometimes the voice I hear scares me and depresses me, and makes me wish I was not a writer. Makes me wish I wasn't a person who feels the need to express and feel expression from others. It would be so much easier to feel less, to have lower expectations, to find solace in all that I have, instead of being grateful, but wishing for better.
Wow. Being ruler of my domain, you'd think I would speak better of myself, huh?! Guess sometimes you're not even really impressed with your own decisions.
Well, that just means its time to shake things up a bit. I vow to, or since we are in a New Year, I resolve to feed my passions. To find time for the Me who lives under my hats. Maybe finding the Me underneath all these hats will not be disruptive at all. Maybe it will make the hats I wear seem less heavy, strengthening the soul of the one who resides beneath. This could be just the spark I have been needing to keep my fire going!
If you're still here reading, I thank you for staying, for reading, for letting me vent my frustration and work through that bit of depression I was feeling. I'm much better now. Writing IS cathartic!!!
I am not sure why I love paper so much. It's really awfully glutonous of me. Watch out trees I am not your friend. As much as I like trees for their shady branches and statuesque presence in the skyline, I also I like them just as much cut down, mashed-up, and converted into reem after reem of glorious pen fodder! How very un-green of me!
I think this love started for me as a child. For some reason we had box after box of scratch paper in the downstairs closet of the home we moved into when my mom married my step-dad. I am pretty sure this paper came from some printing company who had maybe printed reems and reems of copies incorrectly or something, not sure. What I do know is that there were boxes upon boxes of white, pink, blue, and green paper that I was allowed to mark-up, draw on, write on, whatever, because it was paper no one wanted.
Oh, how much I loved this paper! I had my own little office in that downstairs closet. I would sit in the little cubby inside the closet where the paper was stored, and with my boxes of paper I would write, draw, and create my own masterpieces. I loved escaping into my own little workshop. Having my own space was something I never really had. Who really does. Our spaces as children are usually shared with other siblings, or maybe not shared with others, but governed by the man and woman of the house, aka, Mom and Dad. Whose rules applied everywhere within the house. So, forget that you want to hang that cool poster you saw at the store up on your wall, Mom and Dad will not be having any of that. This would damage their walls and this house is an asset, you know.
So, even though you may have your own room, it's not really yours. This line of thinking must come with the role of parent! I now see a mark made in my wall and think, "Ugh. Their just devaluing my house any way they can!!" or, "Great, more work! Let me put it at the end of this list.....where is the end of this list?????"
That is why, I guess, I have such an adoration for paper. With pen to paper I enter my own world. I rule this domain. My thoughts and feelings are valid in this world because as ruler I say so! With pen to paper thoughts are remembered. This second in time is recorded. My soul and spirit will now live on. I have immortalized myself.
I am quite sure this is why I find time for this blogging everyone wonders how I can fit into my hectic life. Well, I find time because I love to write. I yearn to touch souls, to enrich lives, to deepen my connection with the people I am surrounded by. In writing, or in just sharing pictures, I feel I am doing just that. Deepening my connection with those of you, and leaving my children a message, "Your Mom Loved You! She Wanted You to KNOW Her! And How She Loved to Write! And What She Dreams For You MORE Than Anything Else is For You All to Find for Yourself What You Love and DO IT!"
Not sure why, but just writing those words now has brought tears to my eyes. Do what you love! Live with passion!
I am doing what I love in being a Mother and a Wife. But not what I love in my career. I do Love the company I work for, but the job, definitely not what I would have hand-picked for myself. And because of that, I feel I have lost that spark in some ways. That spark that keeps your passionate fire ignited. And, I guess, I sort of feel like how can I be a true example of what I wish to pass on if I am not living it? It hurts, putting it down on "cyber" paper like this. Seeing in black and white that I am only living half the life I envisioned. What a blow. I feel as if I am admitting failure. That is a tough pill to swallow. But, then, what should I do? What will make this lover of all things connective happy. Where would my skills be best matched and where, then, should I start?
Sometimes I feel like there are several people living inside of me. And I should feel this way because in today's society women are made to feel like they are supposed to wear many, many hats, and therefore, be, many, many people.
Some days I feel like I am a wonderful mother. Other days I feel like I have my head in my ass and who the hell would want this woman as their mother? She's full of venum and bile, keep her away from all of your young ones!
Some days I feel like I am a terrific employee. Dedicated to the work and to the real importance of my role. Others, I wonder why I am doing this? Why on Earth do I still continue to act happy with people who really deserve a good tongue lashing!
Some days I feel like the wife I am is so sub-par that my husband should really just leave. I know I could be better, but I've got all these hats and the damn things are weighing on me. Go find you another woman who can be your best friend and your soft place to fall, I am becoming a cold-hard-concrete-for-a-heart person, living in this passion-starved world.
So, I guess what I am saying is that if I am to live my passion, where would I begin? What would have to suffer? I feel like I am already just barely keeping my hats on, what would happen if I juggled them even more by adding, "in pursuit of my passion" to the mix? And that is the thing that keeps holding me back.
This is the most infuriating for me since I have never been one to stand down to a challenge. But, yet, I continually push down my loves, my desires so not to disrupt the many roles I already must be present and active in.
I love this "cyber" paper, and the paper of a journal. I love that I have a voice in this world I have created. Yet, sometimes the voice I hear scares me and depresses me, and makes me wish I was not a writer. Makes me wish I wasn't a person who feels the need to express and feel expression from others. It would be so much easier to feel less, to have lower expectations, to find solace in all that I have, instead of being grateful, but wishing for better.
Wow. Being ruler of my domain, you'd think I would speak better of myself, huh?! Guess sometimes you're not even really impressed with your own decisions.
Well, that just means its time to shake things up a bit. I vow to, or since we are in a New Year, I resolve to feed my passions. To find time for the Me who lives under my hats. Maybe finding the Me underneath all these hats will not be disruptive at all. Maybe it will make the hats I wear seem less heavy, strengthening the soul of the one who resides beneath. This could be just the spark I have been needing to keep my fire going!
If you're still here reading, I thank you for staying, for reading, for letting me vent my frustration and work through that bit of depression I was feeling. I'm much better now. Writing IS cathartic!!!
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